


What ails you makes you stronger

by TFALokiwriter



Category: Pure Genius (TV), Star Trek: The Original Series, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Arguments, Comfort, Father-Daughter Relationship, First Kiss, Flashbacks, Fluff, Foreshadowing galore, Heartwarming, Humor, M/M, Mind melds, Minor Character Death, Mother-Son Relationship, Mystery Illness, Odd, Pseudo Science, Recovery, Spock is a sap, Stand Alone, Suffering, Symbiotes - Freeform, Trauma, Vulcan French Kisses, Vulcan Kisses, originally intended to be a short story but it got out of hand, psuedo disease, psuedo medicine, space boyfriends, supportive!Spock, the recovery and supportive Spock happens after twenty chapters, unusual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 57
Words: 92,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TFALokiwriter/pseuds/TFALokiwriter
Summary: Suffering is easy but recovery is the hard part.Rated Teen and up for language. Written for TOS Spones Challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

_"What ails you but does not kill you makes you stronger," David said, as he sat on his lawn chair with his eyes on the water.  
_

_"What if doesn't make me stronger?" nine year old Leonard McCoy asked, as his over sized hat fell down._

_"It will!" David slid the hat up with a laugh._

_"I am goin' to be a soccer player when I grow up," McCoy said._

_"Then what if you get hurt?" David asked. "how you are going to fix yourself up?"_

_"Pa, that is never goin' to happen,"  McCoy said._

_"But it could,"  David said. "and what if you can't help yourself? Can't. . . defend yourself against the disease and bacteria and space out there?" he gestured out toward the sky. "completely naked!"_

_"PA!" McCoy said._

_"You will be a naked soccer player," David said._

_"No, I won't," McCoy said. "because what ails me  makes me stronger."_

_David smiled._

_"Right, kid," David said, with a laugh turning the little boys hat in a circle messing with his hair.  "you are goin' change your mind after you find your callin'." he shook his long index finger. "just you watch."_

_"What does that phrase mean?" McCoy asked. "the whole ails thin'."_

_"It is just a phrase," David said. "medical professionals understand it. Most. But not me---OOOHH, I GOT A BI' ONE!"_

McCoy was tending to a patient on a planet side mission.

"Doctor, you are really leaving?" the patient said. 

"Yes sirrey,  Giles," McCoy said. 

"I am going miss a doctor like you," Giles said.

"You are the healthiest patient I met," McCoy said. "healthy like an ox."

"I want you to have some fun," Giles said. 

"Explorin' space?" McCoy said. "I doubt it."

"Like being a doctor?" Giles asked. 

"I enjoy it," McCoy said, as he bounced. 

"Have you told your mother?" Giles asked. 

"She is happy for me," McCoy said. "Joanna is quite happy that I finally got around to explorin' space."

"That is good," Giles said.

"Uh huh," McCoy said.

His hands were trembling as he held the hypospray in one hand.

"How does it feel about to serve under the youngest captain?" Giles asked.

"Ah, be quiet," McCoy said.

"Hmmm?" Giles said, cupping the side of his ear.  "I didn't get the answer, Len."

"I am. . . anticipating. . ." McCoy started to get wobbly as he dropped the tricorder.

He felt dizzy. His eyes looked up in the direction of the Hondurian whose eyes were full of confusion. He felt light headed. Wait, how did he get here? He closed his eyes then reopened them seeing they were not there. But there was! Was his brain creating false memories? Or was he just generally getting confused with his trouble vision? Or was it a hallucination? His vision had been failing in the past hour that he dismissed as anticipation for the Enterprise. The youngest man in the fleet. He was going to serve under the youngest captain. His vision blurred as the Hondurian came into view reaching his hand out for the human. And then his vision turned to black.

* * *

"Lenny," Eleanor, McCoy's mother, came. She was sitting by the biobed where her son laid. "Lenny."

McCoy's eyes slowly opened.

"Mo. . . Ma?" McCoy's baby blue eyes opened to see the black, broad shouldered woman looking back at him. "Why are ya here?"

"You are not well," Eleanor said.  McCoy laughed, until he fell into a coughing spell.

"How bad is it?" McCoy said.

"Well the doctors here have no idea what you contracted," Eleanor said, with a grim expression on her face. "Joanna . . . she is on her way," McCoy attempted to straighten himself up leaning against the pillow. "Sweetie, you can't move."

"Ow," McCoy said. "My pride hurts."

"Lenny," Eleanor said.

"Ma,"  McCoy said, with a cough. "does this mean I missed my next assignment?"

"Ssssh," Eleanor said. "don't think of that ship. You need to get better. Think about that."

"These hands aren't supposed to be doin' nothin'," McCoy said.

"Your hands were made to be laid on your lap, mister," Eleanor said.

McCoy laughed, with a cough. He did not have a bad chest cold. If he did, he would have a cloggy nose and not feel well while resting in his assigned quarters by now. It felt like the source of his misery was coming from his chest rather than the head. What did he catch? He didn't feel at all well. His vision was quite blurry up close. He didn't see how worried his mother was. He didn't see that he was in a patient outfit. He didn't know that outside laid a planet surrounded by space. His baby blue eyes appeared to be glassy at first sight. 

The doors opened from across the well aged black woman. In entered a young man with blonde hair and a muscular like build and hazel eyes along a Vulcan who looked generic at best if it wasn't for that unusual sight of navy blue eyeliner. Their arms were linked behind their back military style. The Vulcan sleeves indicated that he was a lieutenant commander while in a blue shirt with the emblem of the track he was in. The young man, highly likely, was a bridge officer. The Vulcan experienced shon-ha'lock, strong intimate emotions toward the man at first sight. It was a strong tug toward the man who looked beautiful but in reality was in bad shape. He could feel the faint line of the t'hy'la bond coming to life. He had read the man's file: lost his father a few months ago, his marriage years ago, and joined star fleet a day after the divorce was finalized. His entire being, inside, shivered feeling the link coming to life.

"Doctor McCoy, I am James T Kirk of the USS Enterprise," Jim said. McCoy's arched eyebrows raised up in surprise. He thought the captain would be one of those men who would not look like a nice man who would be his next door neighbor and have a crush on. "I heard you took ill after your recent posting on Galax IV."

"Recent postin'. . ." McCoy repeated, then he looked over toward his mother with confusion in his eyes. "Ain't I still on it, ma?"

Eleanor shook her head.

"You are on Starbase 1," Eleanor said.  She looked over toward the two and she almost gasped. "Oh!" She covered her mouth staring at the Vulcan's direction. She uncovered her mouth. "You are Mr Spock."

"My first officer," Jim said, with a proud endearing smile looking toward Spock with love dotting eyes. Admiring him, actually, as it appeared to be. A smile grew on the older woman from across the two men.

"First officer now?" Eleanor said. "that is impressive."

"Greetings, Miss McCoy," Spock gave the Vulcan salute.

"It's Ellie, Mr Spock," Eleanor said, then she turned toward McCoy's direction. "this is the Vulcan I told you about," she gestured over her shoulder. "the one who nerve pinched the rogue Klingon."

"Than---" McCoy coughed. "you."

"It was nothing," Spock said. "I am not the one to be thanked."

"Yes, you do," McCoy said.

"Your mother should be thankful she had the vocals to call for help," Spock said.

"Uh uh," McCoy said. "you were nearby," he shook his weak index finger at the Vulcan. "You can't take that back!" He looked over toward the human man who was by his bedside with Spock stuck to his shoulder almost. Jim's hand was on the rail installed into the side of the biobed. "and why are you here, captain?"

"I decided to personally inform you that since you are off duty for the foreseeable future . . ." Jim said in all in one breath. "Lieutenant M'Benga has been . . ." McCoy realized all the rumors about his staccato speaking was not a joke. A living body of drama and goodwill standing right beside his biobed! "chosen to take your place." McCoy had a terrible cough.

"I heard of him," McCoy said. "worked with----" Cough! "the Vulcans."

"And humans," Jim said, his love sick eyes on the man. "I look forward to meeting you again when you are better."

"I hope so, too, captain," McCoy said.

"Call me Jim," Jim said.

McCoy had a hard hack.

"All right, Jim," McCoy said, with a nod.

"I will see you later, Mr Spock," Jim said, walking on out the room. McCoy had a much harder cough. He looked down to see in his hand was red fluid.

"Ma. . ." McCoy looked lazily over toward her. His mother held his free hand in her hand. He didn't see her face was full of horror. "am I supposed to not feel my legs?" His eyes slowly closed.

"Lenny," Eleanor said, her voice full of panic. "Lenny!"

Spock slid the woman away from the biobed as she devolved into a mess of screams and plead. Spock's fingers were placed around the woman's shoulders as he sensed the full extent of her distraught demeanor. He saw images of the doctor growing up flashing before his eyes. A baby in McCoy's arms but then it turned out to be McCoy's father watching the images of the two. The doctor hurled over the dead corpse of his father openly weeping and a dark hand placed on his shoulder. Several dark doctors came into the room with a rolling crate  full of medical supplies. One of the doctors took out a hypospray then applied to his neck as his pulse was erratic.

"Get her out of here!" the first doctor shouted.

"Lenny, please, don't go," Eleanor sobbed, her hand out reached toward her son. "please don't leave me. My heart can't take this loss, please, stay!"

She was forced out of the room through the doorway due to Spock's superior strength. He let go of the woman allowing her to fall down into a heap, weeping. Her face twisted and covered in tears. Spock came down to her level where he sat alongside Eleanor, crisscrossed.

"I grieve with thee," Spock said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Instantly, he was struck with grief and emotional distress. He let go of the woman's shoulder using his years of training to control his emotions to keep them from effecting himself personally.

She raised her head up, her eyes sharp, and glared at him.

"He is not goin' to die," Eleanor said. "who do you think he is?"

"A human being by the name Leonard Horatio McCoy born 2227 to two parents, Eleanor McCoy and David McCoy, who cared for their son dearly," Spock said. "you are unable to control yourself due to the realization that the only link to your husband is dying. That has broken your heart, that cannot be ignored, Miss McCoy." She wiped a tear off. "And there is nothing you can do. It frustrates you that you are useless. Helpless. Vulnerable."

"What can I do?" Eleanor asked, her eyes red.

"Be there for him when you are able," Spock said.

Eleanor briefly closed her eyes then looked over toward Spock.

"You lost someone important to you?" Eleanor asked.

"My brother," Spock said. "he was exiled due to his .  . what you will call. . . healing pain. He dealt with a different type of pain."

"What kind?" Eleanor asked.

"Trauma and the likes," Spock said. "survivors guilt, guilt in general, and he preferred to be called a counselor," she wiped another tear off. "but I do not believe he can be of any help."

"He could help my Lenny," Eleanor said. She cleared her throat. "he still has guilt killing his father. A mercy killin', poor sweetheart," She wiped another tear off her cheek. Her voice nearly cracked when she looked back up toward the Vulcan. "when he gets better."

"When he gets better," Spock agreed, with a nod. It was of little comfort to the human. 

"McCoy's don't give up easily," Eleanor said. "he will give a good fight. Give it all he got."

"Your son, if he were to survive, this mysterious ailment then it may not be the same for him," Spock said. "he may not be the same man."

"What?" Eleanor said. "my little boy becomin' someone else?"

"It is known to happen," Spock said, as Eleanor got up.

"My boy is going to come back out of this with his soul, you devil!" Eleanor spat back at the Vulcan. "go back to your little ship in space and don't talk to me. Ever, about my son that way again." Her eyes were fierce staring back full of fury and anger.

"If that is what you prefer, Miss McCoy," Spock said, then he got up onto his feet and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening to 'How to save a life' the greys anatomy version has been very helpful in making this story and writing it. I have no idea where this is going to be taking me. Hold on to your hats! We are boldly going!


	2. Chapter 2

_"TJ!"_

_The little boy crashed into the arms of the old man's arms. TJ was knelt down to the boy's  level. He looked nothing like his son David who bore a strong resemblance to the doctor but as a grown up. He had the bull shaped eyebrows. Unlike his son, he didn't have the hair bangs. Although, he did resemble an actor from the late 21st century who appeared in reboots and a video game movie adaption. His hair was a shade of gray with more wrinkles than David. He had a well trimmed beard._

_"Lenny,"  TJ said. He smiled as the little boy was in his arms hugging him. "ah, you still growin'."_

_McCoy leaned away._

_"I never stop growin'," McCoy said, with a laugh. He opened his mouth pointing to the empty space where a gleam of white was barely visible. "I lost a tooth last night!"_  
  
_"You are growin' up so  fast,"  TJ said. He tickled under McCoy's arm earning laughter._

_"Take care of the kid, pops!" David said._

_"We love you!"  Eleanor said._

_"See ya next week!" David said, and then the hover car speeded off._

_TJ looked down toward the short boy with baby blue eyes compared to his hazel ones._

_"Now, where would you like to go this weekend?" TJ asked. "Mount Rushmore? The first underwater colony? Yellowstone? The resort around the rin's surrounding the gas giants in the solar system?"_

_"Ma and pa said the underwater colony is dangerous to visit,"  McCoy said._

_TJ grew a wide smile._

_"Ah ha," TJ said. "they don't know the first thin' about havin' fun."_

_"Gran pa," McCoy said. "I have a question"_

_"What is it?" TJ asked.  
_

_"What does 'what ails you makes your stronger'?" McCoy asked._

_"It gives you more immunity against it in the future," TJ said._

_"Pa didn't know what it meant," McCoy said._

_"He should know what that meant," TJ said. "I was the one who told him that damn phrase!" He stood up, then picked up the luggage that McCoy's parents had dumped on him. "Asshole doesn't even bother to tell him a phrase that I, the first McCoy in medicine, invented."_

_"What does it mean?" McCoy asked._

_"I just told you!" TJ said._

_"No, you didn't," McCoy said._

_"Did . . . my son just invent a whole other meanin' for the word?" TJ stopped in his tracks, contemplating in realization, the question with a frown on his face. "it is just a phrase, Thomas Jackson, just a phrase." the two people entered the house. "WHAT DOES IT EVEN MEAN NOW?"_

_McCoy stood in the way of the doorway watching his grandfather in amuse_ ment.

* * *

McCoy's eyes slowly opened to see a clear white room. He saw Joanna and Jocelyn sitting side by side in dark attire in what could be defined as in mourning. His eyes adjusted to see they were in light themed attire. Jocelyn's long red hair cascading on her shoulders. Her green eyes looking down upon her daughter. Joanna was a seventeen year old girl. She had brown short hair that reminded him of his grandfather TJ. At least the pictures showing the man in his youth. She had his hazel eyes.

"Jo. .. Joanna," McCoy's throat felt sore.

"Dad," Joanna said, clenching his hand. McCoy yanked his hand back out of her grip, alarmed, but scared for her. He saw a tall green humanoid shape in the distance at the corner of the room.

"Jo," McCoy said. "why are you not in high school?"

"She had to come," Jocelyn said. "how are you, Len?"  
  
"I could be better," McCoy said. "you shouldn't have come here. . . what if it is contagious?"  
  
"Your mom is still around," Jocelyn said. "therefor, it is not contagious."

"Skin contact contagious, sweetie," McCoy said.

"She touched your hand," Jocelyn said.

"It is good to be worried about incubatin'," McCoy said. "the most deadly. . diseases. . incubate before they strike. Where is ma?"  
  
"Ellen went to a resort," Joanna said.  "mom talked her down."  
  
"That is good for her nerves," McCoy said. ". . I just hope she doesn't touch anyone."  
  
Jocelyn cleared her throat.  
  
"You get better," Jocelyn said. "doctors are supposed to outlive lawyers. Doctors lead a less stressful life than lawyers."  
  
"Says the woman who has dealt five class action law suits and been stressed more than I," McCoy  retorted.

"Hey!" Jocelyn said. "At least I juggle my personal life better than you do when it comes to work."

McCoy coughed.

"I juggle my personal life better than you," McCoy argued back. "no thank you."

Jocelyn rolled her eyes.

"Same old Len," Jocelyn said.  
  
"Dad, you gotta fight this," Joanna said. "I want you to be there durin' my graduation."  
  
"I will be there, pumpkin," McCoy said, clearing his throat. God, did it hurt. "Just. . . . " Joanna started to reach her hand out toward the doctor's hand. "Don't touch me. I don't want ya to get it," McCoy's eyes winced. "I don't want my baby girl and her BAMF mother dyin' because of me."

The thought of being responsible for the loss of people who were close to him was disturbing. It sent a chill down his skin. He was terrified. Scared. It made his stomach twist up. No, he wouldn't, he would not. He would not. He weakly yanked his hand back. He loved them too much to allow it. He couldn't risk it with them. His mother was an exception. If he were in a white room then it must mean  whatever is going on must be pretty serious regarding his condition. His vision darkened as he heard Joanna calling, "Dad! DADDY! DADDY!" feeling his shoulders being shaken and hearing sobs. Joanna finally stopped shaking McCoy's shoulder. She was terrified that he would not wake up. That he wouldn't wake up because there was a chance he might _never wake up afterwards_. She didn't want to lose her father so soon.  
  
Joanna cried into her mother's arms.  
  
"He will get better," Spock said.  
  
"You are his co-worker?" Jocelyn asked, looking over toward the Vulcan who came from the corner of the room. His hands locked behind his back, military style. "Oh," she had a not at all surprised expression on her face observing the Vulcan from head to his boots. "you are Mr Spock."  
  
"I would have been," Spock said, sadly, looking over the resting body of the doctor. He looked toward the two women. "I have done extensive research regarding the McCoy family tree." Joanna raised her arched eyebrows. "It is impressive how the previous McCoy's dealt with cancer, the plague, breast cancer, brain tumors, and being paralyzed."  
  
"I didn't know that," Jocelyn said. ". . . Probably a funny story they didn't get a chance to tell."  
  
"They rebounded, namely," Spock said. "and it was . . ." The Vulcan paused. "a unique. ." He considered his words carefully. "reading."  
  
"How can someone rebound from being paralyzed from the waist down?"  Jocelyn asked.  
  
"Spinal correctional  surgery," Joanna said, as her sobs ended. Jocelyn let go of her daughter as the young woman turned in the direction of the Vulcan. "is it true?" her eyes stared through the Vulcan. "What my grandmother told me about what you said. . . is that true?"

"Affirmative," Spock said.  
  
"I want him back, not himself or himself," Joanna said. She wiped a tear off. "you never served with him. . . why are you still here?"  
  
"I care," was all Spock replied. Joanna looked at him, curiously, but touched.

"I never met a Vulcan who cared,"  Joanna said.  
  
"I'll be right outside, honey," Jocelyn said, patting on Joanna's shoulder.  
  
"Okay, mom," Joanna said.  Jocelyn exited the room.  
  
"I recommend you not touch him without protection," Spock said. "it is illogical to touch someone who is in quarantine."  
  
"I am a McCoy,"  Joanna said. "I am goin' to become a doctor when I grow up. Start up from the medical corps and head on from there," Spock placed a hand on the young woman's shoulder. "If he can pull through whatever hell that is waitin' for him then I can pull through if I get the same thin'."  
  
"Ma'am," Spock said. "your father would be proud of you, likely, with your strand of logic. But I wouldn't."  
  
"You like him," Joanna said. "that is why you here---wait, you did say it, you like my dad."  
  
"I am only intrigued on his health and if he recovers," Spock said, taking his hand off the young woman's shoulder.  
  
"Are you goin' to be there for him," Joanna said. "after recovery?"  
  
"I will," Spock said. "I would not dare skipping out on someone interesting as him."  
  
"That's all I want my dad," Joanna said. "someone to be there for him. . ."  
  
"He is not going to be alone," Spock said. "there are others who have the same condition."  
  
"And he is goin' to be with them soon," Joanna said. "in the same room," she looked over in the direction of the doctor, sadly, picturing a long white room with beds that had slowly dying people of different species. Death didn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, a Hamilton song once went. "with people like him . . . dyin'." She closed her eyes visualizing the scenery before her eyes.

"I was not aware that they will bunk the sick up in the same room given this illness," Spock said.

"It is a logical thin', Mr Spock," Joanna said. "that way it doesn't spread."

"I do believe your father is a carrier," Spock said. "it has been fourteen days. . . But he won't listen."

"Always bein' worried about others  gettin' sick when he is sick," Joanna said, wiping a tear off her cheek. "and he is _my dad."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intend to bring in Jocelyn and Joanna often through this story and give it a case of MFD (McCoy Family Drama or something like it.) Consider what Spock said to McCoy's mother and consider if someone in her position can find it in her heart to forgive Spock for what he said. I think Jocelyn is starting to approve of Spock including Joanna.


	3. Chapter 3

His eyes opened up to see the white room without Jocelyn and Joanna except he saw the Vulcan sitting down in a chair alongside his biobed. He could see the shape of the long green arms merged into a shape that indicated that he was meditating shades of black crossed over the other. He knew it was a Vulcan because the green mass countering against the black bowl like shape. His vision was not being attacked as much. Did he have what his father had? He was terrified. There was a cure for for it but his father was able to see him clear as day and this was different. McCoy's throat felt dry. Something long and rounded entered his mouth. He sucked on it sending the contents down.

The long object was taken out.  He started to feel like he couldn't clear his throat like something blocked it. McCoy gasped for breath. His hands clenched onto the bed sheet and his eyes widened. He could feel something around his nose that was light and soft. Another long item entered his throat quickly taking away what was giving him trouble. It exited his mouth allowing the doctor to relax. He saw the shape of a light blue dress and black mass. The figure departed.  
  
"Hello," He weakly held his hand up performing the Vulcan salute. "Mr .  .  . Spock."  
  
"Tonk'peh," Spock said.  A beautiful, deep rich and gorgeous voice.  
  
Why did he never get to serve with the source of the voice? Oh right, he is sick.  
  
"Ya should leave," McCoy said.  
  
"That is quite illogical as you are in need of companionship," Spock replied.  
  
"Is this real?" McCoy asked.    
  
"It is," Spock said, sitting down by the bed. "have you known anyone by the name . .  . Nancy?"  
  
"Nancy. . . Nancy Crater," McCoy said.  "what. . . about her?"  
  
"She is dead," Spock said. "we found her diary in Robert Crater's house. . . I grieve with thee."  
  
"Thank you. . ." McCoy said, with difficulty breathing. "so. . . tell me. . . is there two versions of hello for you guys?"  
  
"One for family and loved ones, while the other is for informal greets among Vulcan,"Spock said. "tonk'peh is the informal greet."  
  
"Mmmmhmmm. . ." McCoy said. "that is interesting."  
  
"My apologies for speaking in  Vulcan, I do not always . . ." Spock started to say.  
  
"It is fine," McCoy interjected. "you make Vulcan sound beautiful. But these ears don't understand them."  
  
Spock nodded.  
  
"Understandable for a English speaker," Spock said. Spock picked up a tray off the table then placed it onto the man's lap then slowly put on gloves. "the doctors told me that for the most part you have been sleeping."  
  
"Figures," McCoy said. "I am dyin'."  
  
"Don't say that, Doctor," Spock said. "or else it will happen."  
  
"Say, shouldn't you be at the  Enterprise?" McCoy asked.  
  
"We are dropping off a young man currently depowered from what he had been for a majority of his life," Spock said. "Charlie Evans."  
  
"Hmm," McCoy saw the Vulcan pick up the spoon. "now hell nah, you are not goin' to feed me!"  
  
"Doctor, this is the first time you have been spoon fed by anyone else other than your hand in what likely has been over forty years," Spock explained. "and there will be others as the disease you carry is weakening your muscles."

"I feel . . .like a sack of. . . sack of. . . heavy weighted massive chickens," McCoy said.  
  
"Super chickens," Spock said.  
  
"That can't fly," McCoy said. "I wish I can fly again."  
  
"You cannot fly, doctor," Spock said.  
  
"I mean, walk," McCoy said. "walking is a lot like flyin'. Somethin' I can't do. I can't walk. I can't feel my legs." Spock reached his hand out toward the human's hand but stopped himself short recalling  the man's concerns then he completed the reach putting his two fingers on the man's wrist and transferred comfort. McCoy couldn't see what expression was on the Vulcan's face.  "how did you do that?"  
  
"I am telepathic," Spock said.  
  
"Ah," McCoy said. "don't tell me how you did that."  
  
"Doctor," Spock said, reaching his hand back. "you can sip tomato soup, can you?"  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. "W---" Liquid entered his mouth and it slowly fell. He swallowed it.  "that ain't tomato soup."  
  
"It is tomato soup but this version derived from the Andorian grown tomato on Andoria," Spock said. "I offered my service to spoon feed you for Mrs Pegg as it will be less of a shock to be spoon fed by someone else when she comes to feed you tonight."  
  
"I have a nurse assigned to me?" McCoy asked, flattered.  
  
"Affirmative," Spock said.  
  
"Good riddance, now I am really bein' pampered," McCoy said.  
  
"Open your mouth, doctor,"  Spock said, McCoy attempted to move his heavy arm to take the spoon himself. He slowly opened his mouth allowing the soup to enter. He swallowed the bitter, distasteful liquid that traveled down. "Now, was it not easy?"  
  
"Awful," McCoy said. "I should start believin' my patients when it comes to hospital food."  
  
"Yes, you should, doctor," Spock said.

"Tell me," McCoy said. He coughed. "who put you up to this?"  
  
"No one did, doctor," Spock said. "I am interested in you," Spock raised a slanted black eyebrow. "is that not a good answer?"  
  
"It is," McCoy said. "but I hate to take up the time of a---"  
  
"Open," Spock said, then slid in some more content of the soup into the man's mouth.  
  
"Star Fleet officer who should be busy," McCoy said, once he swallowed.  
  
"I completed my previous task before coming,"  Spock said. "and you are being transferred to the USS Bunker Hill. Under Captain James Bell, First Officer Walter Wallace and Chief Medical officer, and Zoe Brockett the head nurse."  
  
"James Belll?" McCoy asked. "the genius."  
  
"Indeed," Spock said.  
  
"Man," McCoy said. "it must be fatal if I am goin' there."  
  
"Every patient is going there," Spock said. "after you are questioned by the doctors regarding who you were with before falling ill."  
  
"How would I know?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Someone with your symptoms," Spock said. "but rebounded quickly than expected."  
   
"Giles," McCoy said.  
  
"Do not tell me his last name," Spock said. "open."  
  
McCoy swallowed the bitter soup sip.  
  
"I hate hospital food," McCoy complained.  
  
"I heard the bunker hill food is better than starbase soup," Spock said.  
  
"Better be," McCoy said. "you ain't goin' to visit?"  
  
"Undetermined," Spock said. "I do not usually take shore leave--open."  
  
"Really?" McCoy asked, raising an eyebrow swallowing.  
  
"Yes," Spock said. McCoy cleared his throat. "not remotely surprising for Vulcans."  
  
"I will judge that when I see you on the bunker hill," McCoy said. "I feel like you will be there when I find myself there."  
  
"Hmm," Spock hummed. "that is a entertaining thought--open."  
  
"Ya are not interested in datin'?" McCoy asked, swallowing.  
  
"Not interested," Spock said.  
  
"Ooops, sorry that came out wron'," McCoy said. "no one should date a dyin' man," Spock paused, considering it.  "Feels like stealin' time out of someones live and never bein' fully able to repay them for all the time they had gave."  
  
"Time well spent some  humans say," Spock said.  
  
"Yours won't be time well spent with me," McCoy said. "best you date someone you will be sure will live lon' enough to watch you grow old and be happy." Spock stared point blank at the human. "ya don't know what happiness is. . . do ya not?"  
  
"I do not understand the concept or have felt it," Spock said.  
  
"Therefore, the feeling exists," McCoy said. "knowledge is the best defense. . . Didn't Surak say that or was that  Solkar?"  
  
"Solkar," Spock said. "he is my forefather."  
  
"Just my luck,"  McCoy said. "marryin' into a family of lawyers, bein' born into a family of doctors, and meetin--" he coughed. "wait a second there!" He coughed, again. "Ya are Sarek's son!"  
  
"Indeed," Spock said. "now open."  
  
McCoy reluctantly opened his mouth allowing the bitter liquid in.  
  
"I hate bein' sick," McCoy said.  
  
"I never get sick," Spock said.  
  
"Ever?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Never," Spock said.  "open."  
  
"Not even the flu?" McCoy asked, curiously, as he opened his mouth.  
  
"Negative," Spock said, as the doctor swallowed what he had been given. "I am healthy by Vulcanian standards."  
  
"Daamn son, ya are lucky," McCoy said.

"I am not your son nor is it customary to call me son," Spock said.  
  
"It's a phrase,"  McCoy said. "or do you want to be called damn daniel?"  
  
"Negative," Spock said. "open."  
  
"I think I like you," McCoy said, looking at the green blur sitting along side him with a open mouth. Despite the pain, sore throat, and the sore chest, Spock just made him forget about the pain and talk. Including how difficult it was to breath. And McCoy genuinely liked the Vulcan's company. He only wished that he could see the Vulcan's face.


	4. Chapter 4

McCoy awoke feeling hungry and sore all over. The device had made it easier to breath. He saw the dark shape of a woman in a blue dress entering the room. It had to be Miss Pegg. She set down a gray object onto his lap and sat down into the chair alongside his biobed. The screen above him indicated his declining health. His stomach grumbled. He had been out for more than half a day, highly likely, given the growl. The Vulcan had returned to the Enterprise.   
  
"Hello," McCoy said, with a groan.   
  
"I am Sandra Pegg," Pegg said.   
  
"Ah, friends call me Len," McCoy said.   
  
"Sandy," Pegg said.   
  
"That is a nice nickname,"  McCoy said. "Would ya like me to call you that?" He saw her head nod.  
  
"At least you don't have a nickname based off the human body," Pegg said.   
  
"Hm?" McCoy said.   
  
"Scapy," Pegg said. "based after the scapula. But call me Sandy."  
  
"How unfortunate, Sandy," McCoy said.   
  
"Open your mouth, Len," Pegg said. McCoy opened his mouth. "and there you go."  
  
McCoy swallowed what had entered his mouth.   
  
"Say," McCoy said, his voice hoarse. "did I wake up earlier?"  
  
"Yes," Pegg said. "you were coughing. We had to sedate you."  
  
"I don't remember that," McCoy said.  He didn't see her face softening  
  
"You were spitting out blood," Pegg said.  "it was an hour after Spock left."  
  
"Did I have to go under?" McCoy said.   
  
"No tumors," Pegg said. "just . . . Open your mouth, we shouldn't be talking about your health while you are eating," McCoy opened his mouth  "if anything you should be thinking about the people you came in contact with and had the symptoms of failing vision." she slipped in the contents of the spoon.   
  
"Good," McCoy said, swallowing. "that means everyone."  
  
"Don't be that way," Pegg said. "just base your previous symptoms and reflect them on everyone else."  
  
"That narrows down the list," McCoy said. His stared back in horror. "the children."  
  
"What?" Pegg asked.   
  
"Children have this," McCoy said. "I dismissed it as a head cold. I need to tell someone about this, please, eatin' can wait for this!" she went over to the comn terminal. "they could be dead all ready dead. Their names are Julius Castro, Ellen Ripley, Michael Flynn, Donald Hannister, Elliot Johnson. . ." The scene panned away from the doctor to show the doctor around him in protective but hazard themed gear. "Rufus Cassiel, Brennan Castle, Julius Roddenberry, Harold Bine, Joan Watson, Sherly House, and Alex Hamilton."  
  
"What stage were they in?" Doctor Connor asked.   
  
"They were puking, fatigue, and losin' their vision," McCoy said. "Giles Fontana was my last patient who was recoverin' from temporary bein' paralyzed, tired, and unable to see," he cleared his throat feeling the soreness in it. "and a twisted stomach."  
  
The blurs shared glances.  
  
McCoy could not see the looks on their faces.   
  
"And the other patients?" Connor asked.   
  
"They had a bad case of the cold," McCoy said.   
  
"What if it is not a bad cold?" Connor's assistant asked. "this is a mysterious illness that we never seen before let alone documented. It is not natural. No one could have known it would have become this."  
  
"Bitch please," McCoy said. "everyone can tell if they are facin' goddamn death itself."  
  
"McCoy," Connor's assistant said. "do you remember all the names of your patients on Galax IV?"  
  
"I remember my first patient," McCoy said. "I remember my second, I remember the third,  I remember the sixth, I remember the eighteenth, I remember the nineteenth, I remember the sixtyith," McCoy weakly clenched his hand. "I remember all their names. And if it is ground zero to a deadly illness, ya better break the news or god help me makin' it difficult with me."  
  
"The children are dead," Connor said. "Between the last fourteen days. .  ."  
  
McCoy felt his stomach twist and turn.   
  
"No," McCoy whispered. "no,no, no, no."  
  
"I am sorry,"  Connor said.   
  
"This has to be a hallucination," McCoy said.   
  
"It is not," Connor said.   
  
"Are ya sure?" McCoy asked.   
  
"Very sure,"Connor said.   
  
Pegg was leaned against the wall watching the doctors inform the man, again, that every singe one of the children had died. She was in the same hazard gear. McCoy wasn't able to see the gear that everyone was in due to his failing vision. She covered her mouth feeling sympathy for the man's distress. Apparently, whatever he was struck with had gone fast on the children. The doctors explained to McCoy about their series of illnesses after being isolated. The children becoming stiff, locked in their bodies, and being unable to eat. Their puke coming out through a tube. Their bodies degrading rather fast while the other medical professionals scrambled around the clock to discover how to save them.  
  
It had gone slower on the doctor as he was older than the children. There were other people who were sick, at least seventy-three of them, in their late fifties to early nineties. At least two people in their mid-thirties were bed ridden and were in the same stage as the doctor. The Bunker Hill hospital ship arrived only in time to help stabilize the older people from the mysterious disease. McCoy coughed. He shouldn't be the one alive. It should be one of the children. He would have given his life to make sure one of them did not die. He shouldn't be the one still around. One of the children should. His eyes became heavily prepared to close. He fought his eyes open toward the doctor with a long, sad expression on his face as though he had aged ten years.   
  
"Ya need to write this down onto a pad," McCoy said. "and find Giles Fontana."


	5. Chapter 5

"Did you hear what McCoy has?" Giles partner, Alec Fontana, entered the living room.  
  
Giles looked up in the direction of the Loche. Loche's were light brown humanoid  like beings who had a bald head that had hand like appendages at the back of the skull normally used to carry or hold something. Like a cat, book, puppy, and so on. Alec took out the several stacks of novels from his grip then sat down into the comfortable black chair across from Giles in front of the wide screen television set. Giles had a pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose.  
  
"Ah, no," Giles said. He had a slight cough.

"You okay, hun?" Alec lowered his book in concern. "You just got better." 

"I am fine," Giles lied. "and continue what you were saying about him. I heard nothing about him."  
  
"Rumors say they are calling it Devil's hand," Alec said.  
  
"Devil's hand?" Giles asked, raising a layered bridge.  
  
"Hand covering the face, they say there's a pattern of a entire hand dotting his face, like, uh, like, some sort of bizzarro thing," Alec said, waving his hand.  
  
"Now that may not be true," Giles said. "Don't believe all that you hear."  
  
"He has trouble breathing," Alec said. "He can't see well. And he can't eat well."  
  
"Devil's hand," Giles said, looking down at the book in his hands. "you would think they would come up with a better name than that."  
  
"Yes, that too," Alec said. "but it is catchy and it makes sense."  
  
"If you say so, my boon," Giles said.  
  
The doors to their quarters opened unexpected. Giles dropped his book with a hard cough letting blood fall into his hands. Alec turned in the direction of who had entered unexpectedly. Giles had dark circles under his eyes. Alec saw the series of hazmat suits enter their small home with the star fleet insignia on their chests indicating they were from the medical part of it. He could not see their faces as the helmets were darkened. Alec looked over in the direction of his husband who was coughing harder.  Alec cried out, "Giles!", lunging forward toward his husband. The books fell down to the rug as Giles weak, sick eyes looked in the direction of the older man.  He saw the look of panic on  the light brown face of his husband as he stroked the man's cheek.  
  
"He is infected, Mr Fontana," one of the hazmats said as Alec was torn away from his husband.  
  
"Giles!" as a hypospray met the  side of his husbands neck with a hiss.  
  
Giles blurring vision went to hell as he saw the familiar sight of a medical tricorder be taken out. 

_It is going to be okay, baby._


	6. Chapter 6

The door opened to reveal a gray figure. McCoy's eyes adjusted. A hazard suit. A smile grew on his face. His mood brightened. Pegg had finished feeding the doctor half an hour ago and left. His body was full of drugs that were keeping him awake for the visit by Jocelyn. He could vividly picture the hazard uniform around her figure. Her messy curled red hair resting on her shoulders within the bulky suit. He could picture Jocelyn's hazel eyes showing her unhappy mood. She came to the chair where she sat down by his side.  
  
"I told ya not to touch me," McCoy said.  
  
"Oh, shut up Len," Jocelyn said.  
  
"Looks nice on you," McCoy said. He could  picture the frown appearing on her face.  
  
"Are you kidding?" Jocelyn asked. "it's so  . . .  urgh."  
  
"You looked good in a trench coat," McCoy said.  
  
"Len, that was a terrible trench coat," Jocelyn said.  
  
"No, it wasn't," McCoy said.  
  
"Your mother gave it to me, everything she gives me is terrible, remember the faulty fishing rod?" Jocelyn asked.  
  
"Ya are impatient, sweetie," McCoy said. "fishin' comes with patience."  
  
"I hate fishing," Jocelyn said.  
  
"Exactly my point," McCoy said. "ya didn't have to go fishin', ya do realize that?"  
  
"I do, but, it was not going to be fun bein' without you," Jocelyn said. "I sent Joanna back home."  
  
"Ya didn't tell her what I have," McCoy said.  
  
"Lenny, dear," Jocelyn said. "she doesn't have to know."  
  
"Ah, don't cry," McCoy said. "I am goin' to be fine."  
  
"They think you are going to die, Lenny," Jocelyn said.  
  
"I know," McCoy said. "enough about me. What's your latest law suit?"  
  
"I am representing a wrongly accused Loche of stealing a prized artifact from a museum which she did not do, convincted, and then pardoned because of evidence indicating she did not steal it at all" Jocelyn said. "character defamation and ruining her life. Everyone thinks she is a thief."  
  
"Poor woman," McCoy said.

"The defense is going to argue today that it was inevitable and the evidence pointed to my client," Jocelyn said. McCoy raised an eyebrow. "the evidence at the time that they had was biased due to  several eyewitnesses being her ex-girlfriends."  
  
"That is bad luck," McCoy said.  
  
"And she was framed," Jocelyn said. "sometimes I am baffled on why people do these things."  
  
"But you always come up with the answer," McCoy said.  
  
"Because they can," Jocelyn said.  
  
"And think they can get away with it," McCoy said.  
  
"Which they don't when I take it," Jocelyn said.  
  
"And who is the best lawyer in the quadrant?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Me," Jocelyn said.  
  
"So good that they sent me into Star Fleet," McCoy laughed. "See? You are goin' to win. You always win."  
  
"Not always," Jocelyn said.  
  
"You beat your 100th case while six months pregnant and moody," McCoy said. "you could have lost."  
  
"I gambled," Jocelyn said.  
  
"You won," McCoy said. "Batman's gambit."  
  
"I take settlements," Jocelyn said.  
  
"You still win even if the jury doesn't come back. You get the client what they want: compensation," McCoy said. "I have been keepin' up with your court cases, missy, and you have been doin' fine. Hell, it sounds like your next class action law suit is goin' to be a few months away."  
  
"Len," Jocelyn said. "I am too wore out for that."  
  
"Last time you said that, you embarked on your second class action law suit," McCoy said. "it's always possible for you."  
  
"Ppph," Jocelyn said. "as if."

"Jocelyn," McCoy said. "ya goin' to do fine. And so am I."  
  
"If you get worse.  . ." Jocelyn said  
  
"Don't  allow Joanna to see me that way," McCoy said.  
  
"Agreed," Jocelyn said. They loved their daughter and she knew McCoy would have done the same for her if she was in his position. Just because they divorced did not mean they shared no love for each other but they still held a certain degree of care for each other.  There was a long pause between them as Jocelyn finally actually looked around then back toward. "I didn't stop to think how lonely it is going to be for you."  
  
"Don't be," McCoy said. "I got the television," he gestured his head off to the wide screen tv on the wall. The walls were showing what appeared to be a beach, live, from Hondur, that was lapping against the sand. "and my nurses."  
  
"Keep looking on the bright side," Jocelyn said.  
  
"You too, Joss," McCoy said. "see ya later?"  
  
"I will tell you all about the case afterwards when I can," Jocelyn said.  
  
"Show them who they are messin' with," McCoy said. "you should go and comfort her. I don't need it."

"I will," Jocelyn said, giving a small smile. "see you later.  . ." she came to the doors then turned toward his direction. "cowboy."

"Wild mermaid,"  McCoy replied.

Jocelyn rolled an eye.

"You are bad at saying goodbye," Jocelyn said, feeling her emotions rising up.  
  
Then she walked out of the room through the doors. The doors closed behind the red head. She nearly crashed to her feet using the wall as her support as tears started to come out. Her tears rolled down her cheeks while pressing a button that began the suit cleaning process. She turned around landing on her back as the gas jetted against her helmet. She threw her head back looking up at the ceiling. Why did her ex-husband have to get this? He was not among the people she wished to see be threatened. Not at all. She had her list of people that she rather see die painfully and slowly. She took her helmet off.  
  
And it was her ex-husband for christs sake.


	7. Chapter 7

"Good mornin', Pegg,"  McCoy greeted the black woman who entered the room. She wasn't in  a biohazard suit. The level of the infection had been lowered by another type of medicine that helped make it non contagious in the air or by touch. It could be transmitted through liquid for now.  
  
"Good morning, Len," Pegg said.  
  
"How was your evenin'?" McCoy asked, as Pegg placed the tray onto the table.    
  
"Fine. . ." Pegg said, sounding sad. McCoy cocked an eyebrow. "doctor, I. . ." she sat down into the chair appearing to be shaken.  
  
"What's wron', hon?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I . . . think. . . I think I am pregnant," Pegg said.  
  
"State your symptoms," McCoy said.  
  
"Vomiting, tired, and uneasy," Pegg said.  
  
"Sounds like a number of thin's," McCoy said.  
  
"I checked my temperature," Pegg said.  "I am not ready to be a mother."  
  
"No one is,"  McCoy said. "why don't ya get abort it and get a IUD?"  
  
"I .  . ." Pegg said, briefly closed her eyes. "I never thought this would happen."  
  
"Gettin' pregnant is always unexpected," McCoy said. "if you are not ready then you shouldn't have life growin' inside ya."  
  
"I am scared," Pegg said. She was trembling.  
  
"We all are," McCoy said. "havin' a child is a life changin' event."

"You too?" Pegg asked.  
  
"I was  afraid that my mother wouldn't live to see my daughter grow up," McCoy said. "my grandfather died when I was nine," the painful memory came to the man. "just a kid. He passed away shortly after we got back home. Dad was. . ." He remembered. "distraught," he cleared his throat. "If my ex-wife wanted a abortion because she didn't feel like she was ready then I would have supported her."

"You are a sweet man," Pegg wiped a tear of her cheek.  
  
McCoy smiled back.  
  
"I am quite aware," McCoy said. "and what about the person ya interested?"  
  
"It was a one night stand," Pegg said, she blew her nose into the tissue.  
  
"Ahh," McCoy said, earning  a pointed glare from the woman through the tears. "I was just curious." McCoy's shoulders shrugged. "Because you have could gone through this together and get closer. Ya should not do it without support."  
  
"My family shunned me for going into medicaid," Pegg said.  
  
"Who cares about them?" McCoy said. "Ya are makin' a family right now."  
  
Pegg blew her nose into the tissue.  
  
"I am?"  Pegg asked, tears falling down her cheeks.  
  
"You co-workers," McCoy said. "and yar friends. There is a pill that terminates a pregnancy right after it begins." McCoy focused all his strength on moving his right hand to her hand that was laid on the biobed. His two fingers wrapped around the little finger and the finger beside that one. "It'll be uncomfortable and make you get sick but it will get the job done. Ya not alone in this."  
  
He loved Joanna, through and through, but if Jocelyn was not ready to be a mother he would have put the mothers needs first. He would have waited to have his little pumpkin. When they were both ready to be parents. It was a price he would have taken to be sure that his wife would have been prepared. Pegg nodded, tossing the tissue into the dispensary machine. The black spots in his vision were growing in size merging with the shape of the woman's colors.  
  
"Ma'am," McCoy said, his two fingers tightening the grip around her fingers. "I rather that ya get all the tears out before ya spoon feed me breakfast."

"You  will be transferred to Bunker Hill," Pegg said. "they'll fix you right up. Or get closer then the doctors--" she was unraveling, becoming emotional, in front of the man. McCoy wished he could lean forward and grab her into a hug allowing her to cry into his chest. "are with your condition."

Pegg closed her eyes.

"Is this normal?" McCoy asked.

"What?" Pegg asked.

"Black dots crowdin' my vision," McCoy said. "I can see nothin',"

There was silence between the two as he heard the chair slid back from the biobed.

"Excuse me," Pegg stood up. He listened to her foot steps. "Pegg to Sick Bay . . ." McCoy's eyes slowly closed.


	8. Chapter 8

McCoy's eyes slowly opened to what appeared to be along wide room. He could see again.  He heard what sounded to be coughing. There was not a wide divider between the sick. This sick bay was different compared to the ones he had been in previous starships as a passenger. A tall man with blonde but brown like hair came alongside the biobed. Walter Wallace, the last he heard the man had been fired from his previous assignment. Due his  choice of helping a patient when he was not supposed to give a non approved treatment. The patient died despite Wallace's attempt to help him. McCoy had a hard cough. He could not move his hands or arms. The only method to relieve himself was  embarrassing to talk about.  
  
"Doctor McCoy," Walter said, holding a padd with a transparent screen.  
  
"Doctor  Wallace," McCoy said. "nice to meet you."  
  
"You have a different strand of the illness," Walter said.  
  
"What kind of strand?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Brain," Walter said.  
  
"Ah," McCoy said. "that makes sense."

McCoy coughed.  
  
"How is your throat?" Walter asked.  
  
"My chest feels---" McCoy coughed. "better. . . What about Giles?"  
  
"He was Patient  Zero," Walter said. "he didn't make it."  
  
"Giles. . ." McCoy said. He coughed, again.  
  
"Sure your throat does not feel better?" Walter asked.  
  
"I feel terrible," McCoy said.  
  
"W!" came a younger man's voice. "W,W,W---"  
  
"James," Walter said. "I am busy with the second victim."  
  
"The goose egg hatched," James said. "Allie's egg hatched. The egg hatched. It finally hatched!"  
  
"When did the baby arrive?" Walter asked.  
  
"I came as soon as the word came,"  James turned in the direction of McCoy. "Doctor McCoy, how nice to meet you, my apologies."  
  
"Ah, it's fine," McCoy said. "ya a legend."  
  
"No, no, no, you are,"  James said.  
  
"Son of an admiral and the kid who climbed the medical track faster than you can say Star Fleet," McCoy said. "I would say you cheated gettin' your own ship but people like you don't take short cuts."

"Not true!" James said. "I do cheat," Walter went past the  man. "in games."  
  
McCoy laughed.  
  
"Tell me. . ." McCoy said. "what exactly do I have?"  
  
"Devil's hand for the others but your . . . infliction. . . is unique," James said.  
  
"How?" McCoy asked.  
  
"It has been there for roughly a month," James said. "what you have is a piece of cake and we will get rid that too."  
  
"What do you mean I have brain cancer?" McCoy said.  
  
"I didn't say that,"  James said. "it's . . . a abnormal growth."  
  
"Cancer," McCoy repeated, the word landing heavy on his shoulders.  
  
"No, it's not," James said. "it is not."  
  
"Has it been growin' to engulf my brain?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Can't say," James said. "Been arrested because of the drugs circulating in your body. Frankly, Devil's hand just save your life." McCoy had a visible 'what the hell' expression on his face. "You probably would have been dead in a year if it wasn't for the disease." McCoy coughed. Owing his life to a disease. McCoy never thought he would be thanking a disease for saving his life. McCoy cleared his throat looking back up toward the man.  
  
"How big is it, Captain?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I can't say because you will have to see it for yourself when we get it out there one way or another," James said. "you can keep it if you want. . ." McCoy glared through the man's head. "after my doctors find the right medical procedure to remove it without damaging your brain."  
  
"How lon' will that take?" McCoy said.  
  
"Three months," James said. "roughly."  
  
"I will accept that duration," McCoy said. "I take it my removal is goin' to be challengin'."  
  
"That it will," James said. "but when we get to it, it's going to be okay."


	9. Chapter 9

Devil's hand was a disease that entered as a trojan horse under a false friendly appearance that had several strands of it. The main one attacked the eyesight first then it went down to the air passageways to make a perfect breeding ground for its bacteria reproduction. The paralysis was temporary and lasted only one day. The paralysis would be enough to attack the major players of the body making clumps of blood that had to be coughed out. Eventually the blood clots engulf the throat forcing them to a painful, slow death if the blood wasn't removed. Otherwise, if they were still around breathing would have become so difficult that they stopped breathing all together due to the pain the body was in as the other organs were attacked.  
  
 The other variations went to the stomach, to the liver, and to the kidneys often times in resulting peeing out blood. Only now was it being discovered as it had been found on a new planet that was isolationists in nature and few inhabitants bothered to leave their planet. The planet was called Devil due to its devil like inhabitants with horns on the head, ugly red skin, and eyes that looked too odd to be real. They were the Devilians. Devilians had unusually long fingers that could cover anyone's eyes whole barely giving them a peak except for some light. It was also called Devil's Hand because of how the patients suffered. The pattern of a hand covering their face when it wasn't there. And it was because Giles visited the Devil planet.

Alec was sitting down at the funeral, openly weeping, for his loss.

He should have told him not to go.

He should have believed his gut.

No one would be dead.

Because of not trusting his gut.

"Why you?" Alec weeped into his hands with his hands on his face. "Why you  and not me?"

His shoulders went up and down as a man's hand was placed on his shoulder.

"I grieve with thee," Alec's brother, Henry, said.

Alec looked up toward Henry.

"I should have stopped him," Alec reached forth bringing his brother into a tight hug. More tears rolled down the man's cheek.

And it was all his damn fault.

* * *

"Pardon me," Nyota said.  
  
"My apologies--" a deep, familiar but monotonous voice came.  
  
"Mr Spock?" Nyota said, stepping back in realization as it dawned on her. "I didn't recognize you."  
  
It was odd to see Spock out of his science blues for Nyota. Spock was in a attire that radiated Vulcan: the mere design of it. A brown shirt with the 'v' shaped curl, the white shirt underneath it, and the long sleeves. She identified the Vulcan calligraphy on it that seemed to be touching. It read vesh' kum-tor. Which meant 'been caught' in Vulcan. She covered her mouth in surprise stifling a laugh from the Vulcan. She was almost taken back on how, for the first time since being posted here, the Vulcan was in civilian attire. Spock tilted his head, clearly baffled, at the reply.  Then straightened his head.  
  
"I rarely go out in civilian attire," Spock said. "I am prepared to make a visit."  
  
"Got family on the USS Bunker Hill?" Nyota asked.  
  
"Doctor McCoy," Spock said.  
  
"Oh?" Nyota asked. "You knew him under the command of Captain Pike?"  
  
"Negative," Spock said. "I met him only this year. He is. .  not well enough to be at his duties."  
  
"Poor man," Nyota said, shaking her head. "must have it bad."  
  
"That he does," Spock said. "have a excellent afternoon, lieutenant."

She watched the Vulcan go past her down the corridor and went past several other officers. She turned away heading on her way to her quarters to take a nice shower. God knows how much she needed to be in the sonic shower. Spock entered the transporter room.  His hands linked behind his back. He made his way to the transporter padd. At the transporter console was Hence Shalley, lieutenant, on duty. She was a white woman with black curled, short hair.  
  
"To Bunker Hill," Spock said.  
  
"Energizing," Shalley said.  
  
His surroundings changed into a unique transporter room that was a shade of gray. It was like he was in the future, only two hundred years from now, looking around in awe. The stories that he had overheard from other science officers were true. It was  true. All of it. He was fascinated. He could hear the beeps coming from the transporter console manned by a black woman.  She looked up with a smile greeting the Vulcan.  In entered a rather young man in a green tunic that had the star fleet badge on the right breast.  
  
"Mr Spock,"  James said, with a warm smile giving the Vulcan salute. "welcome aboard."  
  
"Captain Bell," Spock unlinked his other hand and gave the Vulcan salute.  "your ship is rather. . ."  
  
"Awesome?" James suggested.  
  
"Fascinating," Spock finished. "did you get this ship from a time traveler?"  
  
"Not really," James said, as Spock walked off the transporter padd. "I had the best and brightest engineers refit this ship for what I had in mind," the two men walked out of the transporter room. The corridors were a shade of white. The uniforms were, different, for the medical staff that were all one color. Blue. Some of them wore white long jackets that reached to their ankles. "You people go exploring, we stay in the same quadrant and save the people you can't."

"And star fleet approves?" Spock said.  
  
"Don't mind as long as we don't break rules," James said. "which I am good at obeying," he winked at the Vulcan doing the gun gesture with a smile. "and I probably have an advantage as my adoptive father is the head of security."  
  
"Your father must be proud," Spock said.  
  
"He is," James said. "I must warn  you. . ." they came to a stop in front at the edge of the hallway. "he is not always going to be out of stasis."  
  
"Why did you put him into stasis?" Spock asked. The mere mention of putting someone into stasis sounded highly critical for a patient. Any patient. Namely someone Spock was interested in befriending.  
  
"He has a unique brain cancer," James said.  "We can only have him out for only hours at a time. It will cover his entire brain if he is left out in three months and by then it will be too late." he shook his head. "everyone can be helped."

"But the doctor. . ." Spock said.

"We found out his problem too late." James lowered his head, hands in his pocket, toward the floor. "A few days ago we took him off the medication to help him recover from the Devils Hand. Lingering cough, but. . ."  
  
"But?" Spock asked.  
  
"He was locked in his body," James said. "I took a risk."  
  
"A calculated risk to be sure that the mass would not grow further," Spock said.  
  
"Yes, we did," James said, as  his hand was trembling. He grabbed his wrist not missing a beat. "we had to be sure the kind of cancer he had. Where it went."  
  
"And you know now," Spock said.  
  
"Yes," James said. "but I really hope that his friends and family don't sue us for that."  
  
"They will not as you know how to start the operation," Spock said.  
  
"And then everything will be better," James said. "hopefully."  
  
"You are terrified that you will lose a patient that you cannot save," Spock said.  
  
"Me?" James asked, his right hand placed onto his chest dramatically with eyes that were normally seen on a deer that was startled by headlights. "No."

"I informed Captain Kirk of my visit here so if there are any sudden emergencies regarding the science department, I will take my leave," Spock said.

"Ah, wait, as in, Instructor Kirk?" James asked.

"Affirmative," Spock said.

"Daamn," James said. "he is going to be admiral one day."

"That day will never come as he is not interested in planet side assignments," Spock said.

"Really enjoying himself there?" James asked, raising a eyebrow.

"He is a excellent captain but he is not made to sit behind a desk doing nothing," Spock said. "he is more commonly found on the bridge . . . if I do not offer him with a game of chess for his health."

"Aww, that is sweet," James said. "glad to know he has someone watching out for him."

"James," Walter appeared out of thin air.  He gave a glare at the captain, in blue matching attire, with a long wide padd object fixed along his waist. "Mr Plass informed me that you said  I would help him transfer his second kidney to his ailing daughter."

"And there I go," James said. "sick bay hall is two right turns down," he gestured over his shoulder. "two left turns, and three right turns. It's across from the botany lab."  
  
Spock nodded his head, then went past the two men. He passed several medical staff following the directions given to him by the captain. Spock entered the premises of the long, wide room. It had been exactly twenty-seven point three days, four hours, and thirty-three minutes since he first met Doctor  McCoy. They were in close distance with the USS Bunker Hill. Jim had encouraged the Vulcan to go after his heart for the sake of his logic. Spock found that illogical. How would being away from the human drive him down the road of wrong logic? It was simply astonishing the way humans thought of Vulcan's and their logic. He came down the hall  past several biobeds.

He saw a young woman using a transparent like padd over the turned over man's body. McCoy was snoring away fast asleep with his hands along his chest. He looked at peace and quite content. He understood the definition of beautiful the way humans phrase it, now. McCoy's bangs were drifted over his forehead. The woman looked up in the direction of the Vulcan.  
  
"Commander Spock," Zoe said.  
  
"Greetings, Brockett," Spock said.  
  
"What brings you here?" Zoe asked.  
  
"Doctor McCoy," Spock said.  He looked down toward the resting doctor.  
  
"He fell asleep while talking," she gestured over to a small device placed around his forehead, small transmitters, and a small box in front the front the foot of his bed. "about his daughter who visited a few hours ago," Brockett then sadly sighed, turning him on to his back. "but . . . what he has?" she looked up sadly toward the Vulcan with a sympathetic expression. "It's exhausting for him plus with Devil's Hand. It is not lethal for him. Perfectly curable. But there are parts that need him to be actively moving for him where he needs to recover."  
  
"Is he fit for the route?" Spock asked.  
  
"That abnormal growth is why he can't move," Zoe said. Spock raised an eyebrow.  
  
"That is unfortunate," Spock said.

She pulled the blanket up on the doctor's side.  
  
"He can hear you but. . ."  Zoe started. "with a Vulcan, I think he rather be talking verbally than electronically. Auto correct would be awful for him when talking with a Vulcan," she shook her head with a amused expression. "just save him the humiliation."

"Understood," Spock said. "I would prefer to be in his company regardless."

"All right, Mr Spock," Zoe said, sharing a small smile then left the space.

Spock picked up a pair of gloves off the table then slid them on.

"Good afternoon, doctor," Spock said. "how has your day been?" he turned the device off on the front end of the bed. "Forgive me for intruding but I believe that we should carry this conversation in a more appropriate manner."


	10. Chapter 10

_"My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts. . ."_  
  
Spock found himself at a long prairie like area. There was a tall field of golden but soft, thin like grass similar whisps. Saw the shape of a head in the distance laid on the edge. Spock came forth until the color of the head was clear to be brown. McCoy was laid on a hill watching the clouds pass by. The scenery felt real, so real, and very . . . unique. Mind melds were like digging deeper into ones mind that were often like diving into water and getting into them. Where memories and knowledge laid coming into his mind that formed words or scenes. McCoy's mind was a calm, easy going scenery. He saw a series of houses in the distance form the shape of a 'u'. Spock made his way toward the doctor where he came to a stop along his side then sat down.  
  
"Hello there," McCoy said. His baby blue eyes looking over toward the Vulcan. "how are ya?"  
  
"I am adequate, doctor," Spock said.  
  
"Call me Len," McCoy said. He looked slyly toward the Vulcan.  "if we are goin' to be friends."  
  
"Indeed," Spock said.    
  
"So, how is my cancer?" McCoy asked. Now Spock understood why they were lying to him.  
  
"It is a abnormal growth," Spock said.  
  
"People said square asses were abnormal," McCoy grumbled.  
  
"They were wrong," Spock said.  
  
"Therefore I have cancer," McCoy said.  
  
"Negative," Spock said. "cancer is curable. This is removable."  
  
"And it is growin'," McCoy said. "my head is goin' to be full of it. It is gonna kill me."  
  
"Slowly but surely," Spock said.    
  
"Is this how humans felt like in the past when it couldn't be cured?" McCoy asked. "Hopeless?"  
  
"They will remove it," Spock said.  
  
"What if they do and I ain't the same anymore?" McCoy asked, looking over toward the Vulcan with concern on his face.  
  
"You will rebound," Spock said. "as your ancestors did with cancer."  
  
"Hmph," McCoy hummed.  
  
"Did you know your grandfather, Thomas Jackson McCoy, went against cancer not once but twice?" Spock asked.  
  
McCoy turned his head away from the Vulcan.  
  
"I . . . I never pegged him as a cancer survivor," McCoy said.  
  
"Given that your ancestor, your name sake, was with him during his ailment that means he was not alone in this," Spock said. McCoy looked up with raised eyebrow. "you were named after a nurse."  
  
"But he wasn't a doctor,' McCoy said.  
  
"Of course he was," Spock said.  
  
"No, he wasn't,"  McCoy  said.  
  
"He worked in a field akin to being a doctor," Spock said. "most of the illnesses, that he had to care for patients, ended up being more sophisticated than the average doctor in his field." McCoy's face became furious.  
  
"That's like you sayin' bein' a doctor is bein' a science officer!" McCoy said.  
  
"Medicine is not a science," Spock said.  
  
"Screw that, Medicine is science," McCoy said.  
  
"He was a doctor," Spock said.  
  
"No, he wasn't!" McCoy said.  
  
"He helped the physicians, therefore, he was acting in the capacity of healing," Spock said.  
  
"But he was not certified," McCoy said.  
  
"Understood," Spock said. "but that does not mean he made them take credit for his diagnoses."

McCoy rubbed his forehead.  
  
"You are persistent," McCoy said.  
  
"Because I am right," Spock said. "Theoretically, your grandfather diagnosed himself."  
  
"That is awful," McCoy said. "I would not have wanted to be in his position. . . diangosin' himself."  
  
"Neither would have I," Spock agreed.  
  
Our view turned into the past. There appeared a well aged man sitting in a chair in front of a flat padd in a gray almost blue room that appeared to be his office. Our view panned forward to see there was some similarities between the man and McCoy. But  not the iconic bull horn shaped eyebrows as they were thick and heavy. Not the baby blue eyes but instead light brown eyes. McCoy inherited his baby blue eyes from Eleanor. He placed the padd onto the table rubbing the side of his face leaned forward then rubbed his hands with himself lowered.  He leaned upwards turning toward the small square device on his desk. The camera panned over to a pictures of his family on his desk showing a well aged woman with the McCoy eyebrows and her arms wrapped around the man who looked happy. Little David growing up in the photographs to a young man.  
  
"Did it kill him the second time?" McCoy asked.  
  
"He survived the surgery," Spock said. "however, he died of the complications three months later."  
  
"Three months. . ." McCoy said. "so that means. . ." He leaned forward rubbing the side of his cheeks. "my daughter might have it."  
  
"If it is genetic, plausibly," Spock said. McCoy's eyes darted toward Spock.  
  
"My daughter needs to be tested for brain cancer," McCoy said.

"I need your ex-wives comn number," Spock said.  
  
"Sure," McCoy said. "just touch the grass," McCoy's hands were in the grass.  "I have everythin' organized by shades of green," Spock looked over his shoulder to see the prairie field moving from side to side by the window. He looked down to see the shades of green grass surrounding them that took on the shape of a large circle. "Dependin' on how important they are to me."  
  
Spock's finger grazed against a blade of grass experiencing a memory of McCoy holding a baby in his arms, happy, cooeying at her.  
  
"Fascinating," Spock said. "this is your mind palace."  
  
"Yes, if you can say that," McCoy said. "took me a lot of time to organize it."  
  
"Your time was well spent," Spock said, feeling around for the comn number. He came across the memory of McCoy holding his phone, only a young man, lacking the bags under his eyes and he looked cute. Spock listened to the comn number. "Leonard."

"Call me Len," McCoy said. "if ya tryin' to be endearin' with me while I am sick then ya very wron'."  
  
"I admit," Spock said. "this is my first 'rodeo' being a supportive colleague."  McCoy laughed.  
  
"First?" McCoy asked. He earned a icy glare. "Your first. Uh huh."  
  
"Not entirely convinced?" Spock inquired.  
  
"Not at all," McCoy said. "you must have other colleagues who needed support."  
  
"Most of them refused of them refused to be associated to me because of my heritage," Spock said.  
  
"Xenophobia was bad on  Vulcan?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Affirmative," Spock said. "and still is."

"How are you sure about that?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Unlike humans,  in Vulcan society, there is a deep rooted dislike for Vulcanian-human hybrids," Spock said.  
  
"I always thought their arrogance didn't effect people like you," McCoy said.  
  
"You are wrong," Spock said.  
  
"I know that, now," McCoy said.  "How  has your away missions been?"  
  
"The captain gets his shirt torn every away mission," Spock said, earning laughter from the man.  
  
"Ah that sucks," McCoy said.  
  
"Not at all," Spock said. "a pleasant sight to see his nipples but I rather see them when it is not because of a fight."  
  
"Did I just pun myself into a corner?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I believe you just did," Spock said. "did you know puns were used in first exchange between humanity and Vulcans?"  
  
"I wouldn't put it past humans back then," McCoy said. "humans used puns all the time."  
  
"Do you?" Spock asked.  
  
"When the occasion calls for it," McCoy said. "CSI: Miami, but very disturbin' and iconic, which made a pun meme." Spock raised his dark slanted eyebrow.  
  
"Explain," Spock said.  
  
"It looks like you have been. . ." McCoy put on black sun glasses. "cornered." And them there was a sudden loud 'YEAAAAHHH' cheer.

Spock did not want to disclose just how far it went down the man's family tree. He was the odd one in the family to have gotten it so earlier. Most of the family members got it at the age of fifty or in their late eighties and passed away.  The doctor chronologically was none of those ages but in fact forty years old. Those who were afflicted with the disease before the safe manner of the removal was discovered had died. It was decided, in agreement, by the doctors that there was one part of the cancer that was left in the brain that had sent the dead mans switch stopping the heart. Spock found himself smiling at the human. Frankly, McCoy looked cool in it. It almost made Spock wish that he could melt into a puddle of emotions.    
  
"Oh look," McCoy said, as a bird passed over them. "there goes my heterosexuality."  
  
"You are gay?" Spock said.  McCoy slipped off his sun glasses looking over in the direction of the  Vulcan.  
  
"Bi the way, your smile looks nice," McCoy said.  
  
"I was not smiling," Spock said. His cheeks turned green.

"Yes, you were," McCoy said.  
  
"Are you gay?" Spock asked, again.  
  
"Yes, but I like men and women,"  McCoy said.  
  
"Is that why you and your wife split up?" Spock inquired.  
  
"No, yes, no, yes, no," McCoy said. McCoy shrugged. "maybe, it's complicated."  
  
"Not at all,"  Spock said.  
  
"I didn't know I liked men. I just did not realize . . ." McCoy said. "I realized it after some personal time with my pa. We were lucky that I had him longer than I should. We were all lucky that he didn't catch it in 2264. . ."  He shook his head. "It was rampant. And he was still runnin' around being a doctor despite the colonist spreading disease going around."  
  
"Your father did not come into contact with those carrying it?" Spock asked.  
  
"Not until last year," McCoy said.  "I should have accepted his offer to visit the first underwater colony. . . Just for old times sake. Just before. . ." He paused, taking a breath, briefly closing his eyes at the painful memory then reopened them. "it all happened."  
  
"I do not believe your father had 'luck' on his side," Spock said. "I believe he had time."  
  
"Ya know," McCoy said. "if I live through this and get old, I'm probably goin' to do what my father did."  
  
"Which was?" Spock asked.  
  
"Goin' around as a rogue doctor helpin' people," McCoy said.

"That would be a logical route for someone like you," Spock said.  McCoy nodded.  
  
"Ya should have met him," McCoy said. "he was a sweetheart."  
  
"If we were in deep space then there would have been a chance to have met," Spock said. "but undoubtedly a unfortunate loss in every shape," Spock sensed the man's mood turning sour. "Your mother wishes you to get through the guilt of killing your father."  
  
"She means well," McCoy said. "but if I only waited a few more weeks. . . Just two more weeks," McCoy held his hands out. "I wouldn't have blood on my hands."  
  
"Len," Spock placed a hand on the man's slender shoulders. "My brother, Sybok, can help you with that when you are in recovery."  
  
"I don't need no healer," McCoy said. The camera panned back to  Spock who had a stoic expression on his face leaving no response then our view panned back to the two men.  
  
"You say otherwise," Spock said.  
  
"I will consider it," McCoy said, tending to the grass. There were long patches of what appeared to be a long vine decorated in white buds growing in between them. The cancer was spreading as represented in his mind. The doctor looked back up in the direction of the science officer. "what else would ya like to talk about?"  
  
"Nothing," Spock said. "I want to be in your company."   
  
A smile grew on the doctor's face.   
  
"Quiet type, eh?" McCoy asked.   
  
"Affirmative," Spock said. Their heads turned away and they enjoyed the calm, easy going scenery together. 


	11. Chapter 11

"Greetings," Spock said.  
  
"Hello, Mr Spock," Jocelyn said, warmly greeting the Vulcan.  
  
"What your ex-husband has is genetic," Spock said. "you may need to get your daughter tested."  
  
"My daughter has brain cancer?" Jocelyn said.  
  
"Plausibly," Spock said. "but you need to scan in order to be sure."  
  
Jocelyn looked over toward the right then back to Spock with a concerned expression on her face.  
  
"Are you interested in Len?"  Jocelyn asked  
  
"Negative," Spock said, earning a glare from the woman.  
  
"Don't hurt him," Jocelyn said. Spock raised an eyebrow.  
  
"That would be a illogical to do  given his current condition," Spock said.  
  
"You are a Vulcan and Vulcans don't normally give a rough divorce to humans," Jocelyn said. "you have my blessing."  
  
"I will keep that in mind," Spock said.  
  
"And you will have to apologize to Eleanor for what you said," Jocelyn said. "I am not going to do that part."  
  
"It is illogical as that is a definite possibility regarding the brain cancer," Spock said.  
  
"Apologize," Jocelyn said. "only then will you get her approval."  
  
"Humans and their approval," Spock said, attempting not to roll an eye,  
  
"It's a very intricate part of becoming a couple," Jocelyn said. "burying the hatchets with family starts there. That way, there won't be bad fights or unnecessary arguments.  
  
"Logical," Spock said.  
  
"I don't suppose Vulcans do that ritual," Jocelyn said.  
  
"Negative," Spock said. "we do not." Jocelyn laughed.  
  
"Most sane and logical species in the galaxy," Jocelyn said. "I may not approve of it, but Len needs to be happy."

"I believe he is happy without me," Spock said.

"And I may not be at your wedding but I'll be there in heart," Jocelyn said.

The screen turned to black before the man's eyes. Spock stood up from the desk then headed his way to the empty corner of the quarters. He had to meditate over this. She was bothered by homosexuality and preferred not to see when two men or women kissed. But yet, she was encouraging him to pursue the relationship. That was quite illogical. Given her logic, she wouldn't be interested in encouraging same sex couples coming together. Spock was not interested in a romantic relationship. Not at the least in this part of the ballgame. 

He was only interested in being around the adorable, cute human. Who also happened to look beautiful being sick. He remembered how the human looked laying on the grass with hands behind his head. It almost made him stop breathing. It was disappointing that they could not spend more time together. Spock paused, sitting on the meditation mat.  Was it him or was he suffering the state a worried human would be for someone they cared about? Now it was quite logical why Jocelyn told him said.  Spock rubbed his forehead then entered the meditation.

But the link?

How.

How?

How was it still growing despite being apart from McCoy?

Spock felt along the link to feel the doctors content emotions drifting through. He sensed the growth of the brain cancer had been halted. The link was thin, yet not strong enough to hear his thoughts but only to feel McCoy's emotions. It would need time to become a golden strong link. Compared to his betrothed link with T'Pring that had gone dormant and became not well kept. Was his soulmate in the ailing human? His t'hy'la link. His brother, lover, and friend. For females who experienced T'hy'la's, the word brother was replaced with sister. He had sensed the link forming at the sight of the human. The instant formation where it was only a tiny thread. Spock cleaned the link removing the dust bunnies that were gathering around it to see it was five threads thick. Not thin. Just enough to not break easily.

It became logical. His engagement bond with T'Pring was not logical. It needed to be dissolved. He was demonstrating the classic signs. The classic age old signs of a courting Vulcan preferring to be around their mate when they could. How would he break the news to his parents that his marriage with T'Pring could not be cemented. Not when his first Pon Farr would come around. Surely his mother would understand. And his father, for choosing a human rather than a Vulcan, surely Sarek would. The link had yet to become a  strong golden link between the two. He sensed a fainter one but it was something of inconvenience for now. And who might that be from?  He would need to investigate this later. It was none of his concern for now. T'Pring was a botanist, a well renowned vulcanian scientist among Spock's people.


	12. Chapter 12

McCoy's eyes slowly opened once again to see his mother sitting by the biobed. He saw the blurry shape of the woman with colors blending in. He couldn't make himself smile at the sight of her. He couldn't turn his head in her direction. He couldn't move his hand off the edge of the biobed that felt cold to the touch.  He couldn't adjust himself in the biobed. He felt trapped. And saddened. But overall happy to see his mother.  
  
"Ma," McCoy's voice came out of the device. It wasn't his voice but it sounded like his father.  
  
"Lenny," Eleanor said, clenching his hand.  "see, captain? My little boy defies expectations."  
  
"High five, W!" James held his hand up.  
  
"James," Walter said. "we didn't expect the non-invasive procedure to . .  well. . . I am sorry."  
  
"What non-invasive procedure?" McCoy asked  
  
"We removed a six hours worth of the abnormal growth on the last visit Mr Spock had with you," Walter said. "the abnormal growth . . ." the man paused looking over toward James's figure then back. "Doctor McCoy, I am sorry, but we have to limit how long you are out of stasis so it won't grow."  
  
"An hour," James said.  
  
"Which equals two visits per week from your mother and  your daughter," Eleanor said. "in one visit."  
  
"What about Spock?" McCoy asked. "Did ya call him?"  
  
"The Enterprise is off on a mission and too far away at this time," James said. "your boyfriend was quite unhappy about it."  
  
"We are not datin'," McCoy said.  
  
"Oh, I thought you were," James said. "I will leave you to the professional."  
  
McCoy almost felt like he had lost a friend. No, that couldn't be. He gained a friend. He hadn't told his mother or father about being bisexual. His eyes darted over in the direction of his mother who watched the young man walk away. There were less coughing than the ones that he had heard earlier. His eyes closed as a feeling sank in his chest. There was something wavering in his mind. It was like a thread that was growing. A link of some sort. A golden thin link that lead out into the sky from his mind palace starting out of his heart. McCoy's eyes opened. He had a bad feeling about Spock and space, together, respectively.  
  
"Mr McCoy," James said. "have you made your will?"  
  
"I did," McCoy  replied. "I made it after Jocelyn had Joanna."  
  
"You didn't make a new one?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"It doesn't need changin'," McCoy said. "my mind still stands."  
  
"You are a rare care to have this," Walter said. "we have figured out a way to remove the genetic for a disease like yours in conception."  
  
"The cancer was removed from Jo's brain, sweetie,"  Eleanor said. "got it early enough."  
  
"Thank god," McCoy said, relieved.

"Can you leave us, please?" McCoy said. There were hundreds of ways this could go wrong. "I have to tell my ma somethin'."  
  
"I will talk to you later," Walter said, then he walked away.  
  
"What is it, honey?" Eleanor sounded concerned.  
  
"Ma," McCoy said. "I am bisexual."'  
  
Eleanor was surprised at first then shocked.  
  
"What do you mean you are gay?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"I am bisexual," McCoy repeated himself. "I just . . . didn't really. . put two and two together until . . . A co-worker told me."  
  
"Who was it?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"Jannet," McCoy said. "I thought for the longest time it was normal. It wasn't normal to gush over a grown man and simultaneously. Afterwards, when I went campin'. . . I told pa."  
  
". . . Why didn't you tell me after you told him?" Eleanor asked, sounding like her heart was broken.  
  
"I just did," McCoy said. "and I like Spock. He looks cute."

"I love you regardless of it, Lenny," Eleanor said, squeezing his hand.  
  
"I love ya, too, ma," McCoy said.  
  
McCoy remembered running off to Star Fleet after the bitter divorce. He had to do some courses in alien biology after getting his star fleet commission activated. It was the one thing that had saved his ass back in 2254 and started his career from their making history left and right. He remembered the Trill, the nice and kind ones who were unique in nature. He remembered their hold hands. He encountered several Trill in his career even on his planet side assignments. He remembered the two sets of dots along both sides of their faces.

He remembered Capella IV, the assignment before Galax IV, a very unique assignment in nature that had very few interest in hospitality. McCoy was comforted in the fact that it went better then it did. He had waited years to inform his father starting in 2254. The year where it went to shit after starting to get better. He was fortunate that he had not lost his father in the same stardate. That would have driven him down the lane of drinking and been in the lowest point in his life. It was not a pretty picture. The mere thought of losing his father then was disturbing. He was running off luck. 

And it had to run out, eventually.

Just like his pa.


	13. Chapter 13

"Mom, what does dad have?" Joanna asked, during dinner.   
  
"He is ill," Jocelyn said, stabbing at the lettuce with her fork that clat against the plate.   
  
"Mom, I am seventeen," Joanna said.  "I can handle this." Jocelyn looked up toward Joanna.   
  
"Your father has brain cancer," Jocelyn said. "but it is more of a tumor than anything else."  
   
"Oh, so it is one of those?" Joanna asked, her mood lifting.   
  
Jocelyn nodded, "Yes."  
  
"He will be walking in no time," Joanna said.   
  
"He will be after his recovery," Jocelyn said. "so, have you really decided your career track?"  
  
"I am going to be a doctor,"  Joanna said.   
  
"You don't have to be a doctor, sweetie," Jocelyn said. "you don't have to follow your father's footsteps."  
  
"I have to," Joanna said. "I _like_ helpin' people."  
  
"Apparently it is in the family gene to help people," Jocelyn sighed, in annoyance.   
  
"What, you are annoyed that you are surrounded by doctors?" Joanna asked.   
  
"You might catch something that you can not get rid of like your father," Jocelyn said.   
  
Joanna's face hardened at the words. Her grip on the fork grew harder. Her finger rubbed against the edge watching her mother eat. Rage swirled around within her well taken care of body. She lowered her fork to the side of the plate. Took a sip of her milk then swallowed the sip. And cleared her throat. Joanna had been putting this off to the side for too long. Her heat was beating fast against her chest. She was terrified but anger was fueling her. The implication was too insulting to let it rest.   
  
"Mom," Joanna said. "I want to move back with Aunt Donna."  
  
"What?" Jocelyn asked, alarmed. "Why?" Joanna paused, staring back at Jocelyn.   
  
"I am gay," Jocelyn's fork clattered to the plate as Joanna stood up from the table then left the room.  
  
It only took seconds for Jocelyn to realize that she had alienated herself in front of her daughter.  It would take more than seconds to repair the damage she had done. _My daughter is gay_ ,  Jocelyn thought as her body stiffened, _my daughter is gay. H_ er words flashed against the screen of her mind. Her words coming back after her. Her eyes widened. _My god, what have I done?_  
  
The shock, anger, and confusion was still running around inside Jocelyn.   
  
Jocelyn stood up then walked around the lower floor of the house listening to her daughter's movements upstairs. She was in a bigger mess than she had dreamed of in her life. Her mother was right, " _sometimes, you got to grow toleration, Joss, against what you hate the most in life or else you will have nothing left to show you did good in your life._ " But the wound that she had given her daughter would need time apart in order to properly talk about it. She didn't like seeing affection between two same sex pairings, she rather not look at it, respectfully. It wasn't her business. It was perhaps her worst quality about herself. She had to work on tolerating it. She had to grow up and tolerate.   
  
Jocelyn was going to miss her daughter's damn wedding if she kept this up.   
  
When Jocelyn returned to the dining room, Joanna's plate was clean.   
  
First things first, Joanna needed time to herself before Jocelyn could apologize.

Her words still stung Joanna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought Jocelyn needed to grow as a person because of the headcanons regarding Joanna's sexuality on Tumblr and it was perfectly logical to deal with it. And the first step starts with down time, apologizing, and accepting her daughter for who she is. I like Jocelyn but she needed this character development.


	14. Chapter 14

McCoy found himself in a cell.  
  
_Why am I in a cell?_ , McCoy thought while confused.  
  
"Doctor," Jim said. "how is he?"  
  
"He needs medical attention, Jim," M'Benga said. He didn't seem too happy from the sounds of it.  
  
McCoy turned. His vision still a blur. It was odd that he was walking and capable of seeing but it was not well. He saw the black moving block and the golden block shimmering side by side. He saw a green block inbetween them with dark green pixels along the forehead section. The pixels outlined Spock's torn blue shirt. McCoy came to the side blending in with M'Benga. He placed a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder.  
  
"Spock?" McCoy asked. "Are ya doin' this? Spock, answer me, Spock!" He tried to shake the man's shoulder. "Good god man," McCoy sighed. "did ya just summon me like a ghost and just went unconscious on me? That's a terrible way of invitin' your friend."  
  
Jim stood up.  
  
"They don't know their ruler is a machine," Jim siad.  
  
"That machine is a android," M'Benga said. "and he now has guards around him."  
  
"I am going to get around that," Jim said.  
  
"How?" M'Benga said. "They tortured Spock and they have electrical based bracelets around our ankles."  
  
Jim smiled.  
  
"Right," Jim said.  
  
"And the only way we'll get out of here is by death---" M'Benga said. "Oh, I get it."  
  
"Len," Spock's voice came from across McCoy.  
  
McCoy stood up.  
  
"Spock?" McCoy stood up turning around almost losing his balance and getting dizzy. He did it too fast but his  legs were moving going after the direction of Spock's voice.  Perhaps being sick crossed over to his soul. His pupils were being effected by what the cancer was doing to him. It began to hit him that this was Spock's current representation of what was going on outside and his mind palace reflected where he was. He saw  a lot of gray colors, streaks of gray, and light gray outside the bars. McCoy started to fall until strong, long arms caught him. "Spock!" the doctor smiled looking up to see the mass of green and two brown pixels and pixels of blue. "What kind of eyeliner are ya wearin'?"  
  
"Misty blue," Spock said.  
  
"Ya know, it would be better if I could see you," McCoy said.  
  
"I thought that would have been given that logically souls are not effected by the illnesses of their physical bodies," Spock said. "Such as your ability to walk. That is quite illogical."  
  
"I can agree on that," McCoy said. McCoy strummed the golden thread between their chests. "say, how did you summon me?"  
  
"I did not," Spock said. "I entered a healing trance."  
  
McCoy raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Healin' trance?" McCoy said. "I never heard of that."  
  
"I am keenly focused on repairing the damage that has been done," Spock said.  
  
"That is fascinatin'," McCoy said. 

"It is a shame you got sick," Spock said. "you would have gotten along with the crew."  
  
"Who are the command crew, anyway?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Hikaru Sulu, Nyota Uhura, Montgomery Scott," Spock explained. "there is a impressionable young ensign in engineering who has been looking forward to meet you by the name Pavel Chekov."  
  
"Ya have been gushin' about me," McCoy said.  
  
"Negative," Spock said.  "he was lamenting not being able to meet you. He is a rather excellent chess player."  
  
"I am terrible at chess," McCoy said.  
  
"Hmm, how are you at putting together a puzzle?"  Spock asked.  
  
"I can make do with that," McCoy said. "puzzles are my favorite thin's to put back together."  
  
"Would you like to put together a puzzle on the floor?"  
  
"Make it easy for me," McCoy said. "these eyes are sick."  
  
"First contact with Vulcans," Spock said.  
  
"The original one?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Affirmative," Spock said.  
  
McCoy grabbed Spock by his first then brought the Vulcan into a kiss. The kiss was electrifying and sizzling between them yet full of warmth. The golden link between them grew two new strings making it six threads thick. Spock's hand traveled to the man's back stroking the small of McCoy's back tenderly touching it. Spock returned the kiss while feeling the inside of the doctor's mouth. Gently sucked on the upper part of McCoy's lip. The feel of McCoy's being radiated through through the touch. It felt right in the kiss that went on and on. McCoy's body relaxed in the man's  grip then he slowly broke it off.  
  
"Oh," McCoy said. "Sorry?" He sheepishly backed off. "I forced myself on you."  
  
"That is forgivable," Spock said. "as I like you." Spock unwrapped his hand from the man's back to reveal a box of puzzle pieces.

"What kind of like are ya talkin' about?" McCoy said. "there is comparison, platonic, and romantic."

"Platonic and romantic," Spock said. "We should spend our next date not in a cell."  
  
"I don't care we spend it," McCoy said. He wore a bright, happy smile on his face. The doctor looked like he was radiating. "I would be happy to be anywhere with ya."

The two stepped aside. Spock placed the box onto the floor and dumped the contents down. The puzzle pieces littered the floor. Spock started on the sides first searching for the edges of the portrait shaped puzzle. McCoy put together the puzzle pieces with little effort. He didn't need to see to put it together. He used the shade of the colors as his guide. The colors were all different. Their fingers touched sending electrical arousing sensational signals to each other. McCoy noticed the area where Spock's cheeks would normally be were turning a darker shade of green. McCoy grew a faint smile. It was cute coming from the Vulcan. He returned his attention to the puzzle. Their surroundings changed to a wide hallway. McCoy and Spock didn't seem to mind as they made their way to putting it together. They didn't notice how many times the scene changed before them.  
  
"People should be. . . ruled. . . by a living, conscious person not a machine!" They didn't hear the  speech that was beginning. "How will you have a heir?" Jim's hands rolled to a fist. "You can't feel passion." He shook his fist. "You can't feel anger, disgust, you can't relate to your subjects or to the people you rule. Everyone has the right to be free." Jim's shirt was torn in half with a long cut going down from his shoulder to the side of his waist. His cuff links were torn. "Everyone has to the right to have the purist of happiness.  To keep their property. To experience joy.  The freedom of speech and religion is important because that is the only way there will be peace in any civilization. Not punishment, censorship, or restriction of their rights." His staccato voice was  getting more dramatic. "You do not learn from your mistakes!"  
  
"I do not make mistakes," The tall, man in wearing a white set of wings and had a unusual uniform on.  
  
"You are! Programmed! Not! To! Learn!" Jim said.  
  
"That is incorrect," The robot said.  
  
"You! never! learn!" Jim emphasized. "You are operating on a failed system that needs to collapse," he swung his hand to the city that was in ruins.  The people. . . must  be. . . ruled. . . by  one. . . of their own!" Jim glared at the robot. "You creator intended for nothing to change. You cannot change yourself. A ruler must be able to learn and become a better person."  
  
"I am a human," The robot said.  
  
"You!  Are! Not! A! Human!"  Jim dramatically replied.  
  
McCoy looked over.  
  
"Poor guy," McCoy said.  
  
"You! Are!" Jim raised his voice. "IRRELEVANT!"  
  
"It could have gone differently if he was allowed to learn from his mistakes," Spock said.  
  
"Hmm, if Vulcans did that?" McCoy said.  
  
"Highly illogical," Spock said.    
  
"You have the  Vulcan Science Academy,"  
  
"But they do not control everything," Spock said.  
  
"And the Vulcan High Council?" McCoy raised his arched eyebrow.  
  
"That does not count," Spock insisted.  
  
"As that was made of arrogance," McCoy said.  
  
"Logically," Spock said, as the black man paced back and forth.  
  
"I am not irrelevant,  I am not irrelevant, I am not irrelevant!" The tall man grabbed at the side of his head.  
  
"Logically, you!" Jim said.  "Are!" He did another gesture with his hands. Spock's body was surrounded by Christine Chapel and Doctor M'Benga struggling to keep him alive. "You are obsolete."  
  
McCoy saw Spock's figure starting to vanish.  
  
  
"Spock," McCoy said, reaching his hand toward the Vulcan. "please don't go."  
  
"Why would I bother leaving?" Spock inquired, baffled raising  his dark thin and slanted eyebrow. "We have yet to finish the puzzle."

McCoy relaxed seeing the Vulcan solidifying. The two resumed putting together their puzzle. The robot collapsed with smoke coming out of his head. Jim went over to the table then retrieved their communicators. The man came over to the side of the medical professionals looking over in concern toward Spock. His face visibly heart breaking.  He flipped his communicator open. Their puzzle was half way complete.  
  
"Kirk to Enterprise," Jim said.  
   
"Captain!" Came the voice over the static. "We have been worried about you. You haven't replied in over nine hours."  
  
"Mr Sulu, your worries are found," Jim said. "inform the transporter room that four need to be beamed to sick bay immediately."  
  
"Aye, sir," Hikaru said.  
  
"And it is not me," Jim said. "Mr Spock."  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"Understood, captain," Hikaru said. "Sulu out."  
  
"We need to get him to the emergency operating room," M'Benga said, as Jim handed their communicators back.  "it is a miracle that he is holding on this long."  
  
"He is a miracle," Jim said.  
  
Slowly the scenery hanged into sick bay. Spock's figure placed onto a long bed. Spock's figure started to shimmer before McCoy's eyes. Fear ran through McCoy as he saw his friend wavering before him. Spock's eyes winced as he clenched the side of his waist leaning down to his side appearing to be ill. A small but long cut appeared along the Vulcan's forehead alongside the eyebrows. McCoy came to the Vulcan's side placing a hand alongside.  
  
"Spock--" McCoy started.  
  
"Taluhk nash-veh k'du," Spock's two fingers latched onto the doctor's index finger and the middl efinger.  
  
McCoy felt touched and almost floored.  
  
He remembered the Vulcan Culture class that he had to take during the xenobiology courses.  
  
"Taluck nash-veh kudue," McCoy's Vulcan was terrible. He couldn't see the smile appear on the Vulcan's face.  "don't scare me on our next date, you pointy eared hobgoblin!" He couldn't see the amused twinkle in the Vulcan's eyes. McCoy didn't know endearing the Vulcan had seen the words.  
  
"Wuk . . .  na' . . . shom. . ."  Spock replied.  
  
"Yeah, you need time for rest," McCoy said. Suddenly, he was out of the emergency room.  
  
McCoy's string now went through the doors, then he was suddenly going back, flying out of the room. Jim pacing back and forth, anxiously, rubbing his hands appearing to be worried. His eyes darting to the windows every seventeen point three seconds. McCoy was being tugged away, slowly, as he tried to latch onto anyone. To stay. To see Sock's recovery. Jim rubbed his chin with uneasy, emotional breathing. McCoy sympathized with the captain. Then whatever grip he had in this hall became lost as the link with his body had grown impatient.    
  
"Spock!" McCoy screamed.

McCoy's world returned to darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wuk na' shom= time for rest. 
> 
> Taluhk nash-veh k'du= I cherish thee.


	15. Chapter 15

"Damn it, Spock!" McCoy sat across from the man at a table in the rec room of the Enterprise where there was a incomplete puzzle on the table in between them. They had been sitting in silence together for two hours. Spock had started the conversation with 'how are you'. "Stop gettin' yourself hurt."  
  
"It is a logical thing to experience in my field," Spock said. "I am expendable and the captain is not."  
  
"Yadah yadah," McCoy shook his hand. "but ya takin' more risks."  
  
"I do not take risks," Spock said.  
  
"You are a scientist who takes risk in space but not risks like these!" McCoy said.  "This is the second time that you got hurt because of a way mission and ya don't need to heal four broken ribs with your Vulcan voo doo."  
  
"I did not intend to land myself in sick bay medical off duty," Spock said. "Someone had to act as a cushion for the captain."  
  
"Ya could have avoided it all together!" McCoy's hand smacked on the table.  The pieces bounce above the surface. Spock flinched, visibly. "I don't want ya to be gettin' hurt just to be with me."  
  
"I did not anticipate the away mission to turn this way," Spock said.  
  
"Spock, you know your away missions better than I!" Spock nodded. "And know them inside and out," McCoy said. "This cannot continue and it is not ethical."  
  
"I do not wish for you to grow lonely," Spock said.  McCoy laughed rolling an eye then put one hand on his face as his laughter died. He earned an eyebrow raise from the Vulcan who tilted his head.  
  
"Spock, I am dreamin' all the time," McCoy said. "I am never lonely."  
  
"The prince groom," Spock said. "have you ever dreamed of that?"  
  
"No, not really," McCoy resumed putting the puzzle together. "it's the genderbend of the princess bride. Wasn't really good as the original."  
  
"How about I supply you with the figures and people," Spock said. His fingers were placed together almost in a meditative position. "in the event you want to spice it  up."  
  
"I am still angry at ya," McCoy said.  
  
"If you wish for me to not fall into a healing trance whenever I am injured then that is a illogical wish," Spock said.  
  
"As is yours," McCoy said. "Jim needs his first officer. He is waitin' for you  to wake up in sick bay. He is worried about you!" McCoy stood up. "Hell, he is around your age. And I have a high risk to die with what I have and he doesn't." McCoy turned around folding his arms shaking his head.  
  
"He is awake and you are not," Spock said. "I see no difference as you are awake."  
  
McCoy sighed.  
  
"Spock," McCoy said. "you are bein' illogical."

"I am not being illogical, Len," Spock said. "my logic was sound."  
  
"Spock, you were between life and death because of me," McCoy said. "M'Benga's a good doctor.  I credit him that," Spock slipped out of his chair going forward in the direction of the doctor. "If you do not stop takin' risks to be with me then this relationship is over," Spock reached a hand forward as the doctor stepped back. "Don't bother visitin' me at Bunker Hill."  
  
"Are you sure---" Spock started to say.  
  
McCoy turned back, furious.  
  
"I don't need to be responsible for your death!" McCoy shouted.

The air was still around them as the activity surrounding them continued.  Nyota was with Janice. Nyota felt a chill go down her skin. She looked over to see if there was a stand off going. It was odd to feel this feeling. She turned around back  toward Janice then made her move on the 3-D chessboard. Our view returned to the two men. Spock's hand had lowered and was linked behind his back military style. The doctor was right. His emotions were getting to him.  
  
Spock had been lonely.

"As you wish," Spock said. "I will resume this . . healing trance. . . properly."  
  
"Good," McCoy said.   
  
"And I will find another way," Spock gave the Vulcan salute his right hand.   
  
"Spock, you do realize ya can see me again in two mon--" McCoy was cut off as he was tugged back into his body.


	16. Chapter 16

"Nice to see you again,  Miss McCoy," James greeted the woman sitting along the empty biobed. Eleanor looked over to see the calm, easy going captain. He didn't seem to be carrying any bad news. And if he were here, it meant there were new problems that arose due to his cancer.  
  
"Hello, captain,"  Eleanor said,  with a smile. "what is wrong with my little boy?"  
  
"He is. . ." James tried to finish. "We had to do another non-invasive procedure."  
  
"What?" Eleanor said, alarmed.  
  
"Just a little bit," James said, holding his two fingers close. "Just so it wouldn't continue to spread."  
  
Eleanor relaxed.  
  
"I take it that you have planned his cancer removal?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"My medical staff are going to use the best treatment to make sure there is nothing left of it in his brain after they are done with the process," James said, one hand on the woman's shoulder.  "he will be out in thirty-three minutes. His brain needs to adapt to the removal."  
  
"Thank you for informing me," Eleanor nodded. "what about Doctor Wallace? Why is he not here?"  
  
"Mandatory shore leave," James said. "Doctor Channarayapatra tended to your sons surgery."  
  
"I would like to thank him," Eleanor said.  
  
"Sorry, he is busy with a another patient at this time," James said. "We just discovered another strain of Devil's hand from the remaining patients." James nodded his head. "I will make sure  that he has the time to speak with you afterwards."  
  
"Thank you, captain," Eleanor said.  
  
"There is someone who would like to speak with you," James said, as a familiar figures stopped beside him. "good luck with your mother in law!" He gave two thumbs up then walked over in the direction of Brockett who was nearby a elderly coughing woman checking on her vitals. "How is our favorite patient responding to the medicine?"  
  
There was a long period of eerie, uncomfortable silence between Eleanor and Spock.  
  
Spock cleared his throat.  
  
"I am sorry for what I said earlier," Spock apologized.

"Did he make you apologize?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"Negative," Spock said. "Jocelyn advised me."  
  
"I take it she did that before her daughter came out," Eleanor said.  
  
"I decided to carry it out for the sake of our courtship," Spock finished.  
  
"You are dating my son while he is sick?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"Telepathically," Spock said. "your son is very a very caring individual."  
  
"That is going to get him killed one day," Eleanor said. "emphasizing with  the injured. . . I should be lucky he is not an empath," she shook her head. "but he would have used it to save his father and nearly killed himself because of it. The kind who can pain of others and it becomes part of them then they dissipate it."  
  
"The doctor is psi-positive," Spock said.  
  
"My son is telepathic?" Eleanor asked, confused. "The tests never really said he has ESP."  
  
"If he tried to let it grow and develop, he would be capable of exploiting it," Spock said. "but it would have been a disaster given his nature."  
  
"Full blown mess," Eleanor laughed.

"If we continue this relationship . . ." Spock said. "and it does go beyond courting. . ."  
  
"I accept your apology," Eleanor said. "but your human wedding better be in Atlanta!"  
  
"Perhaps after the five year mission," Spock said.  
   
"I don't believe fraternization rules apply against first officers and medical officers but only to the captain and first officer," Eleanor said. "Star Fleet is highly reconsidering the fraternization this week."  
  
"It would be logical to give the idea of marriage time for someone who has not experienced being bonded with a telepathic," Spock said. "gradually, and slowly, until the point of lowering shields with them is possible. Only then would it be possible to allow them to feel the bond at its full power."  
  
"That is reasonable," Eleanor said. "having someone else in your head. . . How do people handle that?"  
  
Spock handed a small disk to the woman.  
  
"My mothers comn number is in this as is her private comn terminal," Spock said as she took the item.  
  
"Why thank you, Mr Spak," Eleanor stopped. Realizing what she had just said. She laughed, shaking her head. "Sorry about that."  
  
"I see no difference in pronouncing my name," Spock said.  
  
"Can  I call you Spauwk?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"From Galaxy Quest," Spock said, registering the difference in pronunciation.  
  
"Yes," Eleanor nodded.  
  
"If that allows you to be comfortable with me then you may," Spock said.

She raised her thick, black eyebrow back at the man.  
  
"Have you been making my boy happy?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"It is the other way around," Spock said. "but I am not entirely sure of how he feels."  
  
"You can't tell," Eleanor said.  
  
"He is cautious of letting himself be completely open to me," Spock said.  Eleanor had a weary sigh.  
  
"Like he is afraid of being torn apart limb from limb and being handed the second worst divorce in history," Eleanor said. "don't be mistaken by how he reluctant he is to emotionally be invested."  
  
"Both illogical and irrational fear," Spock said.

"That he is," Eleanor said. "but other than that, has the ship been sailing smoothly?'  
  
"The Enterprise has been running fine," Spock said.

"I am not about that ship," Eleanor stifled back a laugh.

"Which ship are you talking about, Ellie?" Spock asked.  
  
"SpoCoy," Eleanor said.  
  
"There is no _USS SpoCoy_ in Star Fleet," Spock said.  
  
"You two, silly!" Eleanor said. "your relationship."  
  
"Ah," Spock said. "I understand."  
  
"It takes two people to run a ship," Eleanor said. "The captain and the first officer."  
  
"You are forgetting the doctor," Spock said. "they are the ones who make sure the ship's crew does not fall apart."  
  
"Forget what I said," Eleanor said. "I mean to say, it takes two to run a relationship."  
  
"That is true," Spock said. "since the loss of your husband. . . how have you been?"  
  
"I never really get over it, it is a light pain in my heart, but his death left a void that can't be filled," Eleanor said. "my advice is, if you really love him, you will cherish him every second you have with him." she rolled an eye. "My husband was always off being busy helping people. And I was always worried sick about him! He made my hair go gray!"  
  
"I believe he will be grayed by the time the five year mission is over," Spock said.  
  
Eleanor's eyebrows rose then she started laughing. 


	17. Chapter 17

McCoy and Spock were sitting together on a bench laid on a hill that was covered by weeds. Spock's arm was wrapped around the shoulder of the human who was leaned into his chest enjoying the sight of the two suns in the distance. The planet was a unique kind of one that  Spock had observed in his previous away mission. He appeared to be in bright pink civilian outfit with Vulcan calligraphy that read tonk'peh, fainusu. McCoy felt the touch of the man sizzling beneath his fingers. The warmth and completion between them made the two feel like one person. No flesh was in the way.   
  
"I never want this to end," McCoy suddenly said,   
  
"Everything must end, doctor," Spock said.   
  
"I mean, this," McCoy said, he gestured to the scenery below that showed a lake with birds hunting for worms in the dirt. "this sight."  
  
"It is my gift." Spock said.   
  
"Your gift is beautiful," McCoy said.   
  
"As are you," Spock replied.   
  
"Nah," McCoy said. "it ain't me. I haven't seen your face in .  . days but it is definitely more pretty then mine."  
  
"Yours is adorable," Spock said.   
  
"No, it isn't," McCoy argued.   
  
"Yes, it is," Spock purred placing a kiss onto the top of the man's head. "end of argument."  
  
"This isn't the end of it,"  McCoy said.   
  
"Would the argument be settled if neither of us are beautiful and say it is the captain instead?" Spock asked.   
  
"I am fine with that,"  McCoy said.  Spock raised a dark, thin slanted eyebrow.   
  
"You are a baffling human," Spock said.  McCoy snickered.   
  
"You are datin' one," McCoy reminded.   
  
"Speaking of which," Spock said. "when do you wish to become emotionally open?"  
  
"When I am recoverin'," McCoy said. "I feel best with . . connectin'. . . with another person . . . when I know I sure am not goin' to die."  
  
"As you wish," Spock said.   
  
"Thank you for the dream of the princess bride rerun," McCoy said.   
  
Spock held his two fingers out for the human.   
  
"It is only logical for someone like you," Spock said.  
  
A smile grew on the human's face as he reached his two fingers out and narrowly missed the Vulcan's fingers completing the ozh'esta. A Vulcan kiss, an intimate sign of love between Vulcanian mates normally. And other Vulcans who had mates of different races. This was their seventh date together. McCoy lowered his hand down onto the Vulcan's lap with one free hand on Spock's right inner thigh. They had finished other puzzles long ago. It became clear that Spock was designing his logic. Like his father, his logic was a human. This was his logic. His hand slid from the man's shoulder to the doctor's waist.   
  
"I like the mountains," McCoy said. "it goes great with the scenery."   
   
"We provide a great sense of aesthetic to any scene together," Spock said.   
  
"I have to agree for once, that is true, Spock," McCoy said.   
  
"For yourself in a scenery?" Spock asked.  
  
"That is what I mean," McCoy said. "I rather enjoy this."

"Len," Spock said. "Have you heard of the word T'hy'la?"

"Lover, brother, and . .  . ." McCoy paused. "wingman?"

"Friend," Spock corrected.

"Been a lon' time since I heard of the word," McCoy shrugged.

"I believe we share the T'hy'la bond," Spock said.

"We?" McCoy said. "Bein' soulmates?" He leaned himself upward from Spock's chest. "What kind of person is writing this goddamn tragedy?"

"Someone logical," Spock said.

McCoy paused.

"Well,"  McCoy said. "it makes sense now why I see a golden thread and ya don't." He pointed to the  Vulcan's chest.

"What do you mean?" Spock asked, tilting his head.

"I see a golden thread between us, but to be honest, it should be red," McCoy said. "because that means love."

"That is a logical argument," Spock said. "but gold stands for eternity."

"Love never dies, Spock," McCoy said,

"Gold never becomes stale," Spock said.

"But it can be melted down into another shape," McCoy said. "love never changes. Gold does."

"Are you arguing it should be red?" Spock asked.

"It should be red," McCoy said. "Because like a trillium. . . If you remove one part of the petal. . . then it will die."

"A trillium is white,"  Spock said.

"I am tryin' to be poetic, damn it," McCoy said.

"Poetic," Spock said. "I will show you who is poetic. . . Love, in all its form, is pure," the vulcan began. "it is full of care and affection, it is bright, it is colorless, genderless, sexless," The Vulcan paused. "Love is a mystery no one has yet to discover, but the part about discovery, is that nothing is the same," McCoy nodded. "Love is the same. It never changes. It remains the same. It is a raging Phoenix that can not be stopped. And it always rises again in flames. It cannot be controlled nor can it be tamed. It demands attention and care. It is a living, immortal link that binds two people together but share the same care for each other even if the affection is no longer thriving in their bond."

McCoy frowned.

"I am not sure if that poetic," McCoy said. "but yes, love is . . ."

"A link," Spock said. "one that will never fade."

"Like gold," McCoy said.

"Indeed," Spock said.

"Now I understand why our links are gold," McCoy went on laughing as a smile grew on the Vulcan's face, one that McCoy couldn't see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tonk'peh fainusu= hello friend.


	18. Chapter 18

McCoy's eyes slowly opened. He could sense a presence along the biobed. He sensed it was Spock. The presence was familiar enough to the resting human. His mother had been the previous visitor including his sister Donna to inform him that Joanna was joining the academy and was graduating early from High School. McCoy couldn't help but worry about her out in space. She survived a near Tarsus IV incident on Cerebrus. Space was dangerous and he knew that. Joanna knew what she was doing. His little pumpkin was growing up so fast.  
  
"I liked the dream you sent me, Spock," McCoy started. "and I like how you managed to incorporate the crew of the Enterprise and some of the people you normally face in space.  It was also the funniest thin' I ever dreamed of." His eyes adjusted to see a multi colored dark woman sitting across from him but her face was a blur. She had dark hair instead of grayed hair. "Donna?" He was startled for good reasons. "Why are ya here instead of Spock?"  
  
"Mr Spock is unable to be here," the voice sounded familiar enough that he recognized it as Nyota. Spock had introduced the crew through mind melds and showed him what they usually did when off shift. Her voice was like a beautiful melody, crystal clear, and unique but pretty.  
  
"Be frank with me, Miss Uhura," McCoy said.

"Mr Spock is on a classified mission with Scotty," Nyota said. "he won't be back until next week."  
  
"A week," McCoy said. "feels like goin' to be a eternity."  
  
"It won't be for you" Nyota said. "you won't be awake constantly."  
  
"I give ya that," McCoy said. "hopefully the dreams don't become a hallucination."  
  
"Why would they become that for you?" Nyota asked. McCoy's cheeks started to turn a heated pink.  
  
"Spock may have or may have not given me a rather. . . hot and steamy dream. . . " McCoy said. "it was so real that I. . . er. . . um. . . . ehhh. . ." his voice was turning sheepish. Nyota started to laugh in amusement. "that is my point exactly."

"I feel pity for you," Nyota said.  
  
"Pity ya self," McCoy said. "it's actually . . . gone. . smoothly datin'  Spock. Datin' a Vulcan is. . . breath takin'. It's full of awe." McCoy was grasping for words.  He couldn't describe it right. Felt like he was not giving it justice. "It is lookin' at the grand canyon full of awe and respect and the majestic glory of it. . . it is a beautiful sight."  
  
"He is the best thing that has happened to you," Nyota said.

"Yes," McCoy said. "he is. . . In those mind melds, it is like I have been completed."  

"That is lovely," Nyota said.

"Do you feel the same about  Christine when ya are with her?" McCoy asked. He caught the woman off guard.  Nyota felt her cheeks becoming heated. Her eyes were like the ones a deer would have when a car with bright headlights were speeding on sixty-five miles per hour blinding the animals eyes. Nyota recomposed herself, reminding herself that McCoy couldn't actually see her reaction. She had a sigh, calming herself down. "Some of the show offs Spock showed me about ya two are the picture of pini'."  
  
"Yes," Nyota said  
  
"Then you are havin' the time of your life datin' a human," McCoy said. "just like Spock and I. . . Though, I have one tiny incy question about her," Nyota raised her eyebrow at the doctor's question. "what is she like?"  
  
"She has taken charge of sick bay when Doctor M'Benga is playing golf in the holodeck," Nyota said. "she enjoys it too much. She is a nice, sweet and intelligent woman," McCoy mentally had a smile to himself. They were going to get along nicely. "she does enjoy caring for others as a nurse. A bit too much. She calls herself queen of sick bay."

"Sounds like a fine nurse," McCoy remarked.  
  
"She is," Nyota said, with a dreamy and lovely sigh.

"Spock told me about you," McCoy said. "best linguistic officer in the galaxy."

"That I am," Nyota said.  
  
"And you are datin' my-could-have-been-head-nurse," McCoy said. "how is that goin'?"  
  
"I. . ." Nyota said. "I have yet to ask her out."

"First," McCoy said. "ask her out. Second, ask her out. Three, test the waters. Four, see if she can date. Five, ask her out. Six, and get this pinin' resolved. Seven, ya need to have a clear mind on duty."  
  
"All right, Doctor," Nyota said  
  
"Because when I step foot on the Enterprise I need my nurses focused," McCoy added. "and if I were on the Enterprise not sick instead of bein' here then you would be locked in a private quarters for an hour until ya two  start talkin'!"  
  
"An hour?" Nyota asked, blinking, a bit unsure.  
  
"Don't make me decide otherwise and put it up to three hours," McCoy said.  
  
"Oh, that's awful," Nyota said, pretending to be disgusted.  
   
"Four hours with the captain's permission," McCoy said.  
  
"Terrible," Nyota said.

"Then I will put you in the closet and let you two resolve it like women," McCoy said. "dancin' around datin'," he rolled an eye, mentally, at the subject. "I am too old to watch that!" Nyota laughed, her hands on her stomach, leaning forward. "if you have to have a sloppy make out then so be it."

"I am not sloppy," Nyota straightened herself, folding her arms.

"I meant messy," McCoy said.

"Oh," Nyota said. "it won't be messy."

"How are ya sure," McCoy said. "not like ya made out in a closet."

"I did with a Orion friend of mine," Nyota said. "best fifteen minutes of my life."

"Remind me to never underestimate you, Miss Uhura," McCoy said.

"Will do," Nyota said. "but call me Ny."

"I am sure M'Benga is noticin' the pinin' and is unsure what to do," McCoy said.  
  
"I am not always in sick bay," Nyota said.

"I will see about that when I talk with M'Benga," McCoy said.  
  
"You know . .  . Spock has been gushing about you," Nyota said. "when at the appropriate opportunity."  
  
"Big sap," McCoy said, mentally rolling an eye.  
  
"Are you two in a relationship?" Nyota said. "he has taken out his 'been acquired' outfit more often."  
  
"Yes," McCoy said.  
  
"That's . . ." Nyota said. "inconvenient. The captain is pinin' on him."  
  
"Water is wet," McCoy said.  
  
"So you know?" Nyota asked  
  
"He is my back up plan if I don't make it through the operation," McCoy said. "Spock needs some one to be there by his side as he grieves and gets himself back together," Nyota grew a sad expression. "Are ya kiddin' me? Everyone threatens Spock on every single away mission to make Jim do somethin'!"

Nyota laughed.

McCoy experienced warmth through the bond with Spock. McCoy tried to tap his fingers on the edge of the bed. But he could not move his fingers. It was alarming. Last time he could move his fingers. But it was a painful gesture wrapping his two fingers around Spock's index and middle finger. The bond was strong enough that Spock's fingers wrapped around McCoy fingers in turn and grazed the side of the man's hand, slowly, but affectionately. The growing abnormally had grown further.   
  
"Get me Doctor  Wallace," McCoy said. "please."


	19. Chapter 19

"Why does he want to talk to me?" M'Benga asked. "Did he found out I removed Spock's appendix?"  
  
"I don't recall hearing them talking about his appendix," Walter said, with a eyebrow raised. He lowered it. "he is taking the waiting for the operation route in stasis rather than continue the current plan of his visits. Terrified that he may die on his visitors."  
  
"Oh god," M'Benga said. "poor man."

"Given his current illness,  he has sound concerns," Walter said. "I would have done the same in his position."  
  
"As would have I," M'Benga said.

Nyota had quickly made it clear once arriving that the rumors were true. Mr Spock and McCoy were in a relationship. Spock didn't know that he would not be able to get a visit next week. The two men came into the now private quarters where he was being prepared for stasis. He wasn't among the few people who were left from devil's hands affliction on them. McCoy had the breathing device still attached around his nose. It became clear that surgery would need to be done to help him be capable of breathing again.

"He will be going into stasis in a few minutes," Walter said. "let him say what he has to say first then talk."  
  
"Will do, Doctor," M'Benga said.   Walter left. M'Benga came to the side of the biobed then sat down. "hello, Doctor McCoy."  
  
"You better lock your head nurse and the communications officer in the same room," was the first thing out of the device. "and wait for them to talk about the elephant in the room. It is the best scenario in the history of professionalism and datin'."  
  
"I was a bit worried that it would be unprofessional," M'Benga said.  
  
"M'Benga," McCoy said. "there is only ethics in bein' a doctor."  
  
"You are right," M'Benga said.  
  
"Usually I am," McCoy said.  "keep up the good work on makin' sure the commander and the captain stay alive."  
  
"Kidding me?" M'Benga said. "It is difficult. Jim almost flat lines . . . once per week. . . and it is so goddamn annoying." He shook his fists. "This rarely happened on my previous assignment. It is unnatural." McCoy mentally laughed to himself. "It is like the captain is specifically targeted every time. Mr Spock follows him everywhere. It is like . . . they are . . ." he held his hands up as if holding balls in his hands, weighing them. "the sun and the earth flying in orbit." he lowered his hands to his lap. "No, actually, they are like Sherlock Holmes and John  Watson in space."  
  
"The universe likes to throw stuff at him I heard," McCoy said. _I am Spock's moon_ , McCoy mused to himself in amusement.  
  
"Literally," M'Benga said. "we came across a shapeshifter that turned themselves into inanimate objects and tossed themselves at him."  
  
"And how did he handle it?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Giving them a  rousing speech about being themselves and stop being angry at themselves for being different," M'Benga elaborated. "they stopped throwing themselves at him afterwards."

Brockett entered with two other stasis professionals as McCoy replied, "Good for him."  
  
"Doctor M'Benga," Brockett said.   
  
"I'll see you after your procedure," M'Benga stood up from the chair.   
  
"Take care of yourself," McCoy said, as he sounded like he was smiling inside. _And your boys_ , McCoy added to himself.


	20. Chapter 20

Spock entered the captain's cabin and made his way to the human's office side of the homely quarters that reminded him of Earth. There were posters of Galaxy Quest dotting along the walls, it was bright and comfy with pillows rested on the couch. Red comn terminals along every wall for the sake of 'just in case the captain is attacked anywhere in his quarters' as an excuse. Jim had a large bookshelf full of many books. He had vases that were kept in place by a form of gravity.  His hands locked behind his back.  
  
"Mr Spock!" Jim said, as Spock entered the office. Jim looked happy to see him. Which was highly illogical as he had been gone for a week not a month. Jim had a warm smile on his face at the sight of the tall, lanky Vulcan alive and well. "How was the mission?"  
  
"Satisfactory, captain," Spock replied. "I suspect this is not about the mission."  
  
Jim leaned against the edge of his desk putting a worn out book on the table.  
  
"It is not," Jim said.  "Mr  Spock, Doctor McCoy has authorized being to not be taken out of his stasis pod until the operation. And I have been hearing rumors lately that you have been dating him. Now, can I put this to rest so no one else has an altercation?" he had his arms folded. Spock raised an eyebrow. "Miss Uhura and Mr M'Benga have been instigators of these fights. They claim nothing happened," Jim raised his eyebrows leaning forward slightly toward Spock then back, "but I suspect some bad rumors came their way."  
  
"I am courting the doctor," Spock said.  
  
Jim smiled then took a book from his desk then handed it to Spock that read 'Beethoven the Sehlat'.  
  
"Jim, what is this for?" Spock asked, baffled.  
  
"It is for you two," Jim said. "said you never read the Vulcan version of the Beethoven the Saint Bernard movies novelization. I figured it would make a good dating gift from a friend," he held his hand up. "Mr Spock, you cannot give it back as it is not in the Vulcan tradition to do so."

"Captain, you, refusing to be handed it back behind tradition?" Spock asked, raising a eyebrow. 

"It is also human tradition," Jim said. "one never takes back gifts."

"Except for a bad break up," Spock said.

"You are dismissed," Jim said. Spock slowly walked away.  Spock hesitated. "and don't leave it on the table!"

Spock resumed the walk toward the door then went through the doorway. Jim knew the first officer was reluctant to read a illogical book regarding a dog putting a household under terror in hilarious ways. The doors to the office closed behind the Vulcan. Jim had to comn Nyota and tell her the bet was on whether he would read it or not. It was a gift, but mainly for the Vulcan's human partner. Jim settled on watching Spock be happy from afar as a distance. He decided that the first day he met the Vulcan. Because clearly, he had his eyes on someone else.  Jim smiled, taking out his worn book with yellow, chipped pages belonging to 'a tale of two cities' by Charles Dickens.


	21. Chapter 21

"Ya don't need to wait for me," McCoy said.  
  
"I must wait for you, T'hy'la," Spock said.  
  
"The Enterprise needs you," McCoy said.  
  
"I finished my report and handed the rest of the specimens to the other interns," Spock said. "they are capable of handling this project."  
  
"I don't know if you can handle this," McCoy said.  
  
"What ails you but does not kill makes you stronger, Leonard," Spock said, his two fingers wrapped around the man's fingers.  "and it makes me stronger in the knowledge that you will recover," there were no negative thoughts intruding on this moment with McCoy in his mind. No doubt in mind that McCoy would wake up.  "I can handle your recovery."  Spock could see, mentally, the doctor reassured in his minds eyes with a comforted smile.    
  
"Ashaya du nash-veh," McCoy said.  
  
"Ashaya du nash-veh, nuh'," Spock sent a small wave of positive, loving emotions.

It was a taste. It was alarming to come from Spock. Spock hadn't done that before in previous mind melds. McCoy relaxed as a thought crossed his mind. McCoy realized that the Vulcan was preparing to open himself for a future with him. This was a taste of that future _together_. Of what to expect in the future after the surgery.  McCoy felt touched by Spock's move. McCoy sent back an image of  himself gently stroking the side of the Vulcan's cheek.

 _That's my boy_ , McCoy thought seeing a dark shade of green from Spock's cheeks.

Spock unwrapped his two fingers from around McCoy's smaller fingers. Spock gently stroked the side of the human's wrist then down the man's index and middle fingers with his two fingers in the gesture. Spock allowed the emotion of caring to pour out with a new emotion that McCoy awakened in him with a low, soft purr. Spock attached an image of himself in the biobed with McCoy, cuddling, with his hands wrapped around the man's feminine like waist. McCoy felt himself surrounded in the positive, soothing and comforting emotions reaching up to his ankles. They were certainly not overwhelming.

Two can play at this game.  
  
Spock stepped aside allowing the nurses to prepare him for surgery.  
  
"I will see ya. . ." McCoy started as one of the neural transmitters were taken off.  "after the surgery."  
  
"Likewise, Len," Spock said, stepping back  from the scene. 

Spock saw the doctors eyes were lit up.

Then watched as McCoy was moved to the gurney and took off the breathing device.

McCoy's breathing was uneasy.

Spock longed to hear the man's real voice, again. Spock wanted to hold him in his arms, physically. He wanted to show the human just how much he had been missing out being sick. He wanted to cuddle with him. Hold him, in any kind of manner. Feel McCoy's skin and memorize his body. He wanted to feel the warmth of his body. He wanted to see the man smile again, bounce on his toes, and be happy. He wanted to see the human not bound by a bed and being unhappy about it, again. He wanted to squeeze the human's hand. He wanted to do the el'ru'esta, their fingers and palms touching greeting each other after a long day apart. To greet McCoy with, "Nashaut, t'hy'la." An intimate greeting. Spock wanted to dance with the man. He wanted to be near him. He wanted McCoy to be capable of speaking on his free will. He wanted to see the human move.

He wanted to see how outfits really fit the human.

In their mind melds, McCoy was dressed in civilian attire consisting of a sweater, shirt, and jeans.

 _It was illogical,_ Spock told himself, _to find a human adorable because of simple attire_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ashaya du nash-veh means I love you. 
> 
> Nashaut means hello, hi. A intimate greeting between two bondmates.
> 
> Nuh' means too.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS WHERE YOU SHOULD BE LISTENING TO HOW TO SAVE A LIFE AT LEAST THE GREY'S ANATOMY. LINK IS EMBEDDED. THIS CHAPTER IS THE PART WHERE THE CHORUS IS SPEEDING AND FAST.

"Mr Spock?" Walter said, approaching the Vulcan at the observation deck.  
  
"Yes?" Spock turned slightly in the direction of the doctor.  
  
"Mr McCoy fell in a coma after the surgery," Walter said. "he is in his temporary assigned medical quarters," the words echoed in Spock's mind. _Leonard is in a coma_ , the words registered in his mind, repeating over, and over.  "He will be out of it as soon as his brain adapts to the new changes. Might take a few weeks. It would take a miracle for him to wake up [overnight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HHNy-znJP-Y)."  
  
"What room is he in?" Spock asked.  
  
"Room 42," Walter said.  
  
"You and your colleagues did what you could," Spock said. He gave the ta'al. "Live long and prosper."  
  
Spock turned away walking away from the doctor with his hands behind his back. He made his way past Captain Bell, "Hey Mr Spock!" who he ignored. James raised an eyebrow then shrugged it off going in the direction of the man who was observing space out there. Spock made his way past several Gangorians, Loche, and  Lacciev among the staff who were not human.  Spock came to the room where McCoy laid on a biobed that indicated his vitals. He was breathing functionally. Spock sat down alongside the biobed in the chair taking the man's small right hand.  
  
"Please, come back to me," Spock plead, squeezing his hand.  
  
Spock sat there through the night as the scene speeded up.

Out least to the camera's perspective.

Spock remained in place. His right hand slowly reached in the direction of the doctor's face. He was contemplating the question to whether or not to help the man out of the coma. It was a risky move that did not mean it would be successful. It could take him down into the coma. Melt his mind, a huge risk itself, which meant their minds would have melted. Beyond the point of return. Death, essentially. His hand slid back placing his two fingers on the man's wrist. Spock's attire changed before our eyes even when he remained in the same position looking intently upon the doctor. People came and went, including Eleanor, Joanna, and Jocelyn. Slowly but gradually we see his hand reach up to the doctor's face. Time became slower. His hand met the side of the man's face.  


_"My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts. . ."_


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Suffering is easy but recovery is the hard part._

Eleanor watched McCoy's  baby blue eyes slowly start to open with a groan.  
  
"My head hurts," the voice came out hoarse and uneven at first.  
  
"Lenny!" Eleanor said, wrapping her arms around the man's neck and buried her face into his chest.  
  
"Ma," McCoy said. His eyes fully opened to see blurs at first yet slightly foggy. She leaned back into the chair unwrapping her arms from around the man's neck. He saw her figure that was slightly less of a blur than it had been many times before.  "where is Spock?"  
  
Eleanor stroked the side of her son's cheek.  
  
"He is on the Enterprise," Eleanor said. "he . . . he . . he brought you back," tears formed on the edge of her eyes. "My son in law brought my boy back just like he said he would."  
  
"Ma!" McCoy said, as Eleanor held his hand.  "We are not married!"  
  
"Son," Eleanor said. "consider yourself married right now by me."  
  
McCoy rolled an eye.

He rolled an eye. He rolled a goddamn eye. He could _move_ his eyes.  
  
"We are not married," McCoy repeated.  
  
"Uh huh," Eleanor said. "he brought your stubborn slow ass out of a coma."  
  
"Coma?" McCoy's eyes widened. "How lon' I been in it?"  
  
"Twenty years," Eleanor said.

"Ha ha ha ha," McCoy laughed in amusement. "nice one, ma."  
  
"Three months," Eleanor said.  
  
"Three months?" McCoy raised an eyebrow.  He attempted to move his fingers but his hands were not responding to his commands.  
  
"Yes, son," Eleanor said, with a nod. "three months." He tried to move his fingers once more.  
  
"And Spock's been by my biobed the entire time?" McCoy asked.  
  
"As often as he can," Eleanor said. She looked down toward his hands then back to him. "the doctors told me that as soon as you wake up, your brain needs time to recalibrate to the parts that were not capable of being reached for so long," she smiled. "since you are going on the road to recovery, you're getting moved to Starbase Yorktown's recovery facilities!"

"No, no, no," McCoy said. He couldn't shake his head as much as he wanted to. His fingers ached and hurt. His commands were not being answered by the fingers that were laid to his side. Spock should have been here. He was supposed to be one of the first faces when he awoke. "not the snow globe."

"It won't break," Eleanor said.

"I prefer a space station over the star base," McCoy said.

"Honey," Eleanor said. "did I drill that into you or did traveling around with your grandfather and father instill that fear into you?" she appeared to be concerned. "I get that you have aviophobia from the fatal shuttle crash with TJ and that you also have astrophobia but they shouldn't prevent you from going to the best physical recovery wing in the quadrant."

"Not like I have much choice given that you are in charge of me, medically," McCoy said.

"Damn right I am," Eleanor said. "and your daughter will be graduating next week."

"I can't believe it's June all ready," McCoy said. "graduatin' in the middle of hell on earth period."

"It is not bad as it was last year," Eleanor said.

"Hope it isn't," McCoy grumbled. McCoy gently reached in his mind for the thread. His head hurt like he had crashed down a series of stairs, slipped on a banana peel, and landed against a door all at the same time. If Spock engaged in a very, very intimate form of a mind meld then he might as well be responsible for this. For the pain in his head. There was no thread. There were remains of it leading into the dark but that was it. McCoy winced, feeling his head throbbing. What the hell did the Vulcan do? The human winced feeling the pain.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Eleanor asked.

"I am fine," McCoy said. "just suffering a headache."

Eleanor frowned.

"Headache?" Eleanor said. "Probably the surgery."

"Probably has somethin' to do with our link," McCoy said. The Vulcan had likely raised his shields up breaking the growing bond.  So due to it not being fed the link broke naturally. It wasn't one established by a Vulcan priest or by a mind meld. "how has your weekend been while I have been asleep?"

"Amanda and I went motorcycle riding last weekend outside of Shikahr," Eleanor said. "she can ride a mean motorcycle," she smiled fondly at the memory. "we penciled in a day of hiking together. Sarek is going to be 'meditating' the day away instead of joining on girls night out," she frowned.  "Wait a second, I get why it's called girls night out, because it' only girls."

McCoy laughed.

"You better have fun," McCoy said. "and I hope ya were not mopin' around because of my situation."  
  
"Me?" Eleanor put one hand on her chest, pretending to be insulted, in disbelief. "Moping around?" she shook her head. "You must be mad. I don't mope around. Since when do I mope around?"  
  
"Ya moped around after watchin' James Cameron's Titanic," McCoy said. "and coverin' my eyes as a child for scenes that you deemed inappropriate."  
  
"I don't mope around," Eleanor said.  
  
"I can always ask Donna or Joanna regardin' ya," McCoy said.  
  
"Sweet pea, I was not moping around," Eleanor squeezed her son's hand. "I swear."

 


	24. Chapter 24

"What is up, pumpkin?" McCoy asked, as the sipport chair wheeled over to the young woman holding up her graduation attire to her chest. Joanna turned in the direction of the older man putting on a fake smile.  
  
"Nothin'," Joanna said.  
  
"Don't lie to me, young lady!" McCoy said, glaring back at the woman. Joanna wore a worried expression on her face.  
  
"I am worried this is going to be the most awful presentation in my life," Joanna said  
  
His face softened.  
  
"Darlin'," McCoy said. "it won't be a disaster."  
  
"But dad," Joanna said. "it is suppose to be the best day of my life. What if it is not?"  
  
"You are goin' to do fine," McCoy reassured the young woman.  
  
"But the speech is . . ." the young woman shook her hand. "I don't like it."  
  
"Then turn it into a son' or go off script," McCoy said.  Joanna stared blankly at her father,  
  
"It can't be somethin' off my mind," Joanna said.  
  
"Ya speak for the body of students who are graduatin' early," McCoy said, as Joanna had a sighed. "ya valedictorian," she squeezed his hands. "Give it your heart and soul. Give it your future."  
  
Joanna nodded.  
   
"I will try," Joanna said.  
  
"Don't make me get ya grand mother and encourage ya ass," McCoy said. "you would be standin' for an hour listenin' to her never endin' rant."  
  
"Daddy," Joanna laughed, wrapping her arms around the man's side once she lowered her self down in a hug.  "you sweetheart."

* * *

 "JO,JO,JO,JO,JO,JO,JOOOOOO!" A front row of girls ranging in species called out for the woman.  
  
Joanna received her high school certificate completely dressed in her black long outfit with a hat. McCoy watched, tearfully, as his daughter going on to another stage of her life before his eyes.  She gave the Vulcan salute to her Vulcan principal, who unlike many visible Vulcans in star fleet, appeared to be emotional at her gesture. She returned the gesture to the graduate. Joanna made her way past the principal then shook the hand of the other people on the stage and joined the other early graduates. McCoy felt tears running down his cheeks. The doctors informed McCoy that they had to fix some abnormalities that resulted from being laid down on a bed for three months straight. His bones were not as stiff, nor hard, but he could move his two fingers: index finger and middle finger. Moving his wrist was coming around but not soon enough. Spock did not appear this week. And it was concerning.  
  
Eleanor placed a hand on McCoy's shoulder.  
  
"Look, our little pumpkin is a grown pumpkin," Eleanor said.  
  
"She is goin' to do fine," McCoy said. "better than I did."  
  
"Now don't say that about yourself," Eleanor said. "she will do as good as you."  
  
McCoy shared a smile.  
  
"Hope I don't see her amon' my patients in the near future," McCoy said.  
  
"She is a McCoy," Eleanor said. "we are everywhere," The pain in McCoy's neck prevented him from turning  his head. The nurse who took care of him, Nurse Johnson, had made a suggestion of laying on his side when he slept that way to give it some familiarity of moving on its own. His legs were frankly dull, not a sign of movement. He didn't get the sign of leg kicking returning. Not yet, anyway. "good chance you will see her in action."  
  
"In action. . ." McCoy said. 

His headache had softened but it wasn't as throbbing and annoying as before. It was getting easier to live with. But he was getting concerned about Spock. Why hadn't he arrived? McCoy's thumb was twitching. God did it hurt to move it. Spock was going to have a earful when he returned. An earful on what pain Spock just put the man through for putting his mental barriers up. Eleanor wiped the falling tears off McCoy's cheeks. Spock should be here. McCoy could see the vacant chair alongside him. He had thought the Vulcan would attend. He had to. He couldn't send a subspace message to the Enterprise, not yet anyway, as the ship was out of reach. What if the Enterprise, full of four hundred souls, just went out into space and became lost? The  Enterprise, under Captain Pike, had seen through the conflict on the Battle of  Altamid in 2263. It had seen the survivors of other ships be returned. Severely damaged but managed to pull out with some of the crew lost except for the core crew. The Enterprise had gone through an anomaly and came back.  
  
Surely Spock would come back.  
  
The group applauded as the last, a Loche, had joined the group.

There were hundreds of family members in attendance and two hundred high schoolers in a separate row across from them. The early graduation was bigger than it was expected to be. The applaud was loud to the doctor's ears as everyone stood up. Eleanor did too. McCoy saw his twin sister, Donna Withers, among the crowd. Her familiar face full of joy and pride. She had hazel eyes like his father. They were interracial twins, Donna had black skin and he had white skin. They both shared striking resemblance, however, Donna had curly hair reminiscent of McCoy's style. He saw his cousins and nephews, uncles, and aunts among the crowd that had other alien species among them. The McCoy bull eyebrow was strong in his family. Eventually the graduates went off stage to have their picture taken. Everyone sat back into their seats.  
  
"Was she cryin'?" McCoy asked,  
  
"Yes, Lenny," Eleanor said.  
  
"I knew you should have given her the pep talk this mornin'," McCoy said.  
  
"She didn't need one," Eleanor said. "this is the beginning of her new life."  
  
McCoy stared at his mother.  
  
"Real life, ya mean," McCoy said. "she is the one who has to give the speech."  
  
"Her speech is wonderful," Eleanor said.  

"Did she read it to you?" McCoy said.  
  
"No,  . . . er. . . may . . . have. . . erm. . ." Eleanor said.  McCoy's eyebrows raised.  
  
"You hacked her computer?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Not as hard as kids these days say it is," Eleanor said.  
  
"My mother is a hacker?" McCoy said, surprised.  
  
"Sometimes you have to go on the dark side to get data back," Eleanor said. "it is why I have my data encrypted. It is why my many novels were able to be completed."

McCoy laughed.  
  
"My mother!"  McCoy repeated, with a laugh. "A hacker," his eyes were lit up and a smile appeared on his face. "I can't believe--" his pinkie finger twitched in between his laughter. "now I know why father was reluctant to tell me why you were on the computer late hours into the night."  
  
"Hacking," Eleanor said. "it takes a lot of time out of my schedule."  
  
"I won't tell her," McCoy said, as Joanna came onto the stage.  
  
"Our little secret," Eleanor said.  
  
Joanna cleared her throat.  
  
"My name is Joanna McCoy, and I have been accepted to Star Fleet Academy," Joanna said. "My dad still thinks of me as his little girl. I don't blame him with that. My mom still thinks of me as her little girl who can not make a mistake," there was a roar of laughter from the front end of the applause. "but in the heart, I am still a little girl who is learning to live in this world and its changing and it's positive. It was just yesterday that my dad taught me to ride a bicycle. Just yesterday that my dad cuddled with me after I watched a bad movie. Just last night that my parents were together and now they are not. My family is a little broken but it is still there. I made a new, unconventional extended family out there in space with my friends and my girlfriend Abbigal Heart," Heart cheered, "YOU ARE MY HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEART, JO!" who waved a poster in the air earning a sheepish smile from the young McCoy. The poster read 'my GF is graduating b4 me!' in multiple colors. "Thin's change. My dad . . . as you know. . . is recoverin' from bein' in a coma and a bad case of devil's hand that wrecked his body. My mom is busy with a series of law suits and she sleeps for three hours a day, we don't see other often, nor do we stand in the same space together," the woman shrugged. "But alas, that is life."  
  
Our view started to transition.  
  
"My mom once told me that just because something bad happened to you doesn't mean there is hope that something better can happen," There were drinks being exchanged. Joanna and Heart were singing a duet.  "something beautiful, amazing, something that we never can have imagined," Eleanor was talking with the other woman as they laughed. "it won't be the same. Nothing would be. Knowing the pain, the suffering, and the  sight of something terrible," McCoy was watching a holovid at the party of the graduates. "it is in our book," McCoy was smiling.  "Machines would never understand this," a green hand slid onto the back of the seat. "It is in everyone's book," the view drifted over to Donna giving Joanna a bear hug, "Life is a roller coaster and I am proud to be riding it."  
  
McCoy didn't turn his head.  
  
"Spo--aw--ck?" McCoy croaked.  
  
The figure came in front of him with a smile. He had a dark beard. Wild dark hair that was not neatly combed. McCoy's vision had greatly improved during his recovery. He couldn't see text but faces were clear except for the background of the photos. The background was a blur in the distance. He saw friendly, kind eyes looking back at him. He could see the tips of the pointy ears. His mood turned sour. The Vulcan's hands were not locked behind his back. This was clearly as hell not Spock. Spock should be here. McCoy was getting angry at him. What was keeping the damn pointy eared computer so long? McCoy shouldn't be doing this alone. If he were emotionally opening himself up to Spock and giving the relationship a chance, was this really how he was being rewarded? Or was Spock giving him the cold shoulder and decided to date someone who had the chance of being capable of _using_ their joints. It was a terrible thought but it was reality.  
  
"My name is Sybok," Sybok said.  
  
"Leonard McCoy," McCoy said  
  
"It is pleasant to meet you," Sybok said. "my brother told me of the pain you are experiencing . . .I can sense your pain. .  but I did not believe it would be that bothering for you," he seemed to be baffled by the doctor. "you are the most unique, strange human I ever met."  
  
"I will take that compliment any day, Mr Sybok," McCoy said. "comes with bein' a doctor."  
  
"How do you go to sleep at night with this guilt?" Sybok asked.  
  
"I think of the good thin's I have done," McCoy said. "I don't think I am ready to face that pain again."  
  
"If you wish to move on from your day after day of guilt and sleep well," Sybok said. He gently placed a hand on the man's shoulder. "you will  face it for your father," the two men's eyes met. "let me help you with your pain."  
  
McCoy briefly closed his eyes.  
  
"Spock should . . .  be here . . . for . . .  this," McCoy said, emotionally. He took a sigh. "Better late than ever. Can we do this somewhere privately?"  
  
"Indeed," Sybok said.  
  
The two men left the party to a room. Joanna returned to the table, confused, then shrugged it off. Her father had probably left. She scanned the room for Eleanor sitting down and took a sip of her drink. Her class mates came in front of the table, "say cheese, little girl!" and snapped a picture of Joanna with a heated face and a glare that could kill. She didn't like her friend running away with the wording of her speech. It wasn't the speech that her classmates had agreed on but never the less it was perfectly worded and short to the point. She watched her classmates dance. She hiccuped, watching the scene unfold before her eyes. It was the best party that she had ever attended. Eleanor was enjoying herself with the other parents. Everyone was happy. Ten minutes later we can see McCoy and Sybok appear at the corner of the open doorway to the part of the building where the party was held.  
  
"Thank you," McCoy said.  
  
"Do not  thank me," Sybok said. "thank my brother. . . who needs to explain himself .. . .to you," The  Vulcan turned away then started to make his way out when the human's hand reached out grabbing his wrist. McCoy sent appreciation and gratitude in the temporary link that appeared between them. The Vulcan paused looking over toward the human. McCoy's grip went slack. "live long and prosper, doctor." He gave the ta'al as McCoy let go of his wrist.  
  
"Peace and lon' life," McCoy said.  
  
Sybok left the man.  
  
McCoy felt content and free.


	25. Chapter 25

McCoy felt the link singing back to life. The parts of the broken link fell back into a  straight golden line within his mind leading leading into darkness while glowing. McCoy felt joy at first. The edges of his eyes started to water. He could feel a heart string was tugged at the thought that Spock had lowered the shields. His heart was singing in joy. His mind gripped at the link to feel it whole again. Long and sizzling with life. A feeling that McCoy had never felt before. It was fresh and new. Novelty to him, actually, but the powerful link had another thread to it.  
  
"And my sister said that she will be trying that beans recipe you suggested for camping," Johnson, moving the man's hand, slowly, up and down giving him some feel of moving his hand and exercising it. His eyes started to water as his hands twitched holding a plastic closed pen in one hand. The man looked worried at the doctor. "you okay?"  
  
"I am goin' to kill Spock when I see him," McCoy said, the deactivated pen scraping against the biobed with another twitch of his hand.  
  
Johnson took out a tissue and wiped a tear off the man's cheek.  
  
"Good enough for me," Johnson said. "and oh, my sis was wondering, did you really wrestle a Cardassian over Jack Daniels?"  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. "that 'bein' trapped in a lockdown because of some Cardassian suicide bombin' mission' story happened."  
  
"Well," Johnson said. "I still can't believe you and the Cardassian are. . ."  
  
"Ya can say it," McCoy said.  
  
"Medical colleagues," Johnson said. "Cardassian's prefer not to interact with the federation or star fleet  professionals," he waved his hand sideways coming over to the man's leg. "And gettin' drunk of all things."  
  
"Lizards can get drunk, too, ya know," McCoy said.  
  
"But it hasn't been proven," Johnson said, as he moved the doctor's leg.  
  
"I'll ask him to send me a video of him bein' drunk and shown to you," McCoy said. "and then I will ask for Doctor Nambue to start a study regardin' lizards and human intoxicating beverages."  
  
"You know Doctor Nambue?" Johnson asked, his thin eyebrows raised.  
  
"Yes, he was also my colleague," McCoy said.  
  
"Damn you were a busy man," Johnson said.  
  
"I was needed," McCoy said.

"Do you feel any pain in your legs, Bones?" Johnson said.  
  
"I told ya to stop callin' me that," McCoy said. "and no. . . the pain stopped last night."  
  
"You keep complaining about them, and, you are a doctor who fixes them," Johnson said. "just between you and me."  
  
"Just between you and me," McCoy grumbled.  
  
"Do you feel anything in your leg?" Johnson asked.  
  
"Sadly, no," McCoy shook his head.  
  
"Give it time," Johnson said, with a smile coming over to the man's other leg.  
  
"It has been three weeks, Johnson," McCoy said.  
  
"You'll get a miracle," Johnson said.  "just believe in your legs."

"Believin' in my legs ran out on Monday," McCoy said, looking toward the window where he saw people in the distance walking. And he couldn't.


	26. Chapter 26

The Enterprise docked into the starbase and then the docking port went in to the side on the supporting section leading up to the saucer section of the Enterprise. People started flooding out leaving behind  a skeleton crew in charge of the Enterprise. Jim was in the lead talking with what appeared to be a Irish man who had his arms wrapped around Jim's shoulder and Scotty's shoulder appearing to be delighted. They were in new variation of the uniforms that had been sent out weeks ago. They had neck zippers, a feature to turn the regulation pants into regulation short khakis, and the embedded star fleet insignia was a piece of metal now attached to the uniform.  
  
"I heard the Yorktown has the best Romula--" Riley started to say but was caught off by Scotty's voice.  
  
"ULTIAIV!" Scotty corrected him.  
  
"Rolative Hail," Riley corrected himself.  
  
"Rolative Hail," Jim said. "I like the sounds of it."  
  
"Imported by the one and only Gangorian-Vulcan partnership," Riley said. "not that it is official."  
  
"I am more than eager tae taste the hail," Scotty said. "better be good than the green liquid."  
  
Spock came behind them coming to a stop at a reception desk.  
  
"Mr Spock?" Nyota asked, coming by. "Are you going to join the party?"  
  
Spock looked over.  
  
"I had no part in the events leading to the party therefore, I will not go," Spock said. "and I have better business to attend to."  
  
"All right," Nyota said. "we all deserve some down time from this half a month anomaly. . ." she smiled back, her hand placed on his shoulder, kindly. "have fun, sugah."  
  
Spock bowed his head.  
  
"As do you," Spock said. He watched the woman go away joining Christine and several other women and men in a large group full of laughter and joy. Spock slid forward a credit on the table. "One Vulcanian energy drink."  
  
"Coming right up," the woman turned away getting a small cup that normally would be used for a shot. She took out  a green card then slid it into the machine. The liquid jetted out landing into the glass. It stopped. She took it out then turned back in the direction of the Vulcan.  She noticed he had bags under his eyes like he had been up for days. His eyeliner was slightly faded and his hair remained well combed. She slid the cup onto the table and then picked up the credit.  
  
"Nemiayo," Spock said.

Spock made his way from the stand once he finished the glass  
  
At the docking port, waiting in a chair, sat a familiar black woman as children darted past wearing backpacks prepared for school.  Teenagers followed after the children chewing on bubble gum dressed in black, decorated in black tattoos, and unusual hair designs. Spock came to a stop once he saw the woman stand up, her eyes lit, and she speeded toward his direction. Spock's hands were locked behind his back with one hand wrapped around his cuff. The woman crashed against him with her hands wrapped around his waist and sobbing. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. This was a unexpected reaction. Spock felt the tug of rest pushing at him to find any flat surface and fall asleep. Vulcans could stay up longer than humans under stress with little sleep. And since there was no stress, he needed to be resting not walking. M'Benga had voiced his concern to the man.  
  
M'Benga was also going right past him.  
  
"Get some sleep, Mr Spock!" M'Benga said.  
  
"Thankyoutthanyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouforbringingmybabyboyback," Eleanor weeped.

"I take it that he is awake," Spock said.  
  
Eleanor backed off.  
  
"He has been awake for three weeks," Eleanor said.  
  
"Three weeks?" Spock asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yes," Eleanor said. He lowered his eyebrow. "and thank you, thank you, thank you, for helping my little boy move on."  
  
"It is my honor," Spock said.  
  
"You look tired," Eleanor said. "have you slept?"  
  
"Not at all," Spock said.  
  
"Come on," Eleanor grabbed him by the sleeve. "Lenny is in the physical recovery facility."  
  
"I was unaware that he was moved here," Spock said.  
  
"I insisted that he be moved here at the edge of deep space so you and him can be closer," Eleanor said.  
  
"You have sound logic," Spock said.  
  
"You don't have sound logic," Eleanor said. "not sleeping!"  
  
"It was logical at the time," Spock said.  
  
"You can be sleeping instead of being awake and dear god, you could say something you don't mean in your state," Eleanor said. "but I am taking you anyway because the one time Sarek had insomnia and he was still able to apologize to your mother for insulting general mickey mouse."  
  
"Mickey Mouse is not real," Spock said.  
  
"Yes," Eleanor said. "that's the best part."  
  
"That is highly illogical," Spock said.  
  
"Jerry apologized to Will for insulting Mickey Mouse," Eleanor said. "that is logical to get over an argument."  
  
"That it is," Spock said. "who is Jerry and Will?"  
  
"They are from Enemy Mine," Eleanor said. "Classic movie that gave us misconceptions about aliens and alien reproduction."

"Such as?"  Spock asked.

"Asexual lizards reproducing by their stomachs  splitting open ad then the baby being taken out," Eleanor said. "death by childbirth."

"Inconvenient," Spock said.

Eleanor looked over toward Spock.

"Do you reproduce asexually?" Eleanor asked.

"Negative," Spock said. She turned her head away, delighted.

"Then I am good with this marriage!" Eleanor said.

"We are not bonded," Spock protested.

"Get bonded," Eleanor said.  
  
"After the five year mission," Spock said.  Eleanor rolled an eye.  
  
"You two can be married and not be breaking the goddamn rules," Eleanor said. "my little boy can handle a telepathic marriage," her mood was quite bright and excited. "he handled attending the University of Missippi!"  
  
"It is not logical to marry someone who has yet to fully and emotionally open up to them,"  Spock said.  
  
". . . Fine," Eleanor said. "but you better have the human marriage in Altanta, Georgia!"  
  
"If you wish," Spock said.  
  
They went through four site to site transporters, one train ride, and several left and right turns to the facility through some crowds. Spock wondered to himself if she had been aware that the Enterprise was coming down for shore leave after their days out in space within an anomaly. He had seen Hikaru join up with a another man who was taller and built like a tank. A officer in a blue shirt from the USS Hood most likely since the Enterprise was not the only ship docked. Ensign Chekov joined off in the direction of two people who resembled him in little but subtle ways. They came to a unique building that had a design that some Vulcan building designers would admire.  They went through the doors. The protective shield turned darker signalling the time of day on the starbase was night.

"He has been waiting for you," Eleanor said, coming to a stop alongside the door and let go of the man's cuff.  
  
"I find it unfortunate that he had to wait this long," Spock acknowledged. His hand now behind his back.  
  
"You really should have been at the graduation party," Eleanor said. "whatever you were dealing with, it was probably more important than that."  
  
"It was," Spock said. "but I have one question, Ellie."  
  
"Shoot it," Eleanor said.  
  
"Why Atlanta, Georgia?" Spock asked. Eleanor had a softened, sad expression.  
  
"Because that's where we cremated David," Eleanor said. "I want him to  be nearby."

"I take it that it was legal," Spock said.

"Chattahoochee river," Eleanor said. "You should hold the wedding at a garden restaurant. Like Canoe, the wedding would be beautiful there.  Almost fairy tale like," she a fond smile at a memory from long ago. "Looks right over the river." The doors opened and Johnson came out.

"Hello Ellie!" Johnson said, beaming a smile. "What brings you here?""

"I better go," Eleanor said, with a smile. She gestured over to Spock. "this man is my baby's spouse."

"Good," Johnson said. "he needs that support with what angst the news put him in. See ya." he went the opposite direction and Eleanor made her way from Spock down the hall.  Spock looked in both directions with raised eyebrows.

Humans were truly baffling.  
  
Spock straightened his uniform sending it sliding down and smoothed it out. He wasn't terrified of how broken apart McCoy would be.  No, he was not.  The man was going to be whole. He was going to be better than Spock was. He was only terrified of how McCoy thought about his prolonged absence.  He briefly closed his eyes locking his hands behind his back. A courting Vulcan leaving his desired one half way through the courtship was a big no-no was considered that they had lost interest. Spock walked in the direction of the door. There was no going back. The door opened before the Vulcan letting him stroll right in.

When he stopped, Spock saw a sight that made him wish he was an artist. In front of window sat a figure in a wheel chair.  The light outlined the figure's head, the wheelchair, and the shine in his brown hair. The wheelchair was more of a support chair variation but adjusted for someone in the middle of recovering from a disease or illness that left them paralyzed. It was a anti-gravity type of support chair like many others. If Spock were an artist with a gift then he would replicate the scene on a painting perfectly. How the  synthetic light appeared on the resting figure. The rounded ears to both side of the man's head. Spock had a sense of beauty about the scene rather than the sad, dull one inhabited by his significant other. The support chair turned toward Spock.  
  
"Did ya really think that I  needed shielded?" McCoy said, finally, in a low voice.  
  
"Negative," Spock said.  
  
"Why did you shield me?" the support chair turned around to show McCoy with a hurt expression on his face.  
  
"I did not shield you from the results of the mind meld as I had recovered from it," Spock said. He stepped forward. "the Enterprise was stuck in limbo," McCoy's hunched, dark eyebrows narrowed. "where else time was irrelevant and all communication was cut off. We managed to escape by means you would not believe."  
  
"Try me,"  McCoy said.  
  
"It is disturbing," Spock said.  
  
"Spock, if we are goin' to be in a relationship then we have to tell the truth to each other," McCoy said. "we keep no secrets from each other."

"There were Klingon and Romulan counterparts of the  Enterprise lost in space with a minery vessel that had matter of unknown qualities," Spock said. "I and the other science officers studied this matter in a attempt to understand what had happened. Our counterparts refused to explain what had happened. They were at constant war with each other. Their ships refused to show signs of damage. They did not lose any crew member in this illogical warfare."  
  
"Now that is disturbin'," McCoy said.  
  
Spock stepped forward closer in the direction of the human.

"Jim arranged a meeting with his counterparts on the Enterprise under two very different ruses that  I participated in. It was a logical ruse," Spock noted. "one in which the security team stunned them. They were taken to the conference room where they regained consciousness. Apparently, they were experimenting with science that should not be mastered, or let lone, touched." he came closer and closer to the doctor. "we had to perform tests in order to learn how to undo it. It seems they came from a bad timeline where a single individual named Nero came into their universe, introduced red matter, and destroyed all their enemies allowing the collapse of what was keeping every empire in line. The Cardassians easily took over and turned them all into slaves."  
  
McCoy's heart sank.  
  
"A war began with a union of surviving Humans, Romulans, Klingons, Bajorans, Vulcans, Klingons, Loche, Gangorians, Deltans, Lacciev and the  Quill," Spock then cleared his throat. His shoulders trembling. Slowly unraveling before the doctor's eyes. "The Quill were the commanders of the war going often into the field as fleet captains while the Rhodia remained aside,  the Klingons were the fighters but more suited as the security personnel while some were given ranks of captain, and what remaining the humans were the medical professionals, the Gangorians took the place of the humans providing unusual advancements in technology and repairwork in engineering, and Romulans played a part of making back up plans. That is only the beginning of the roles other species played in the war."  
  
"I can't believe the Cardassians took over the quadrant," McCoy said.    
  
Spock nodded, gravely.  
  
"From what we were able to gather, there was a massive battle in both timelines of proportions that our federation would not be able to make. There was a final resort brought created by my counterparts to end the war," Spock further elaborated for the human. McCoy's skin ran cold as Spock sat on the edge of the bed. The Vulcan heaved a sigh that was shaky at best. "I ended the quadrant. Both parties of our counterparts each had opportunities to not deliver the package to the leading Quill body but they did not. My counterpart, in their timelines, was a scientist who worked on Vulcan. The two ships were outside and were caught into the aftermath . . . "  the support chair floated over toward the Vulcan.  
  
Spock cleared his throat once more.  
  
"Spock . . . " McCoy said. "I . . ." words could not go on to explain what he wanted to say.  
  
"But the lives that were lost cannot be undone," Spock said, regretfully. They were the sole survivors of their war. For all they knew it destroyed countless planets. Jim gave them a speech regarding hope. The captain encouraged them to let us  send their ships back in order to let them repair what damage had been done and eliminate the place of limbo," McCoy's hand twitched as it went forward. His other hand went forward following after, twitching, slowly placing themselves to the Vulcan's hands laid on the lap. "recreating it took longer than I had proposed to the captain," his tired, emotional eyes looked up in the direction of Leonard. "the last three weeks of lost time has caught up with me." Spock's voice started to crack.

"Spock . . ." McCoy said. "it must have been that bad for ya to make a destructive force like that."  
  
Spock's eyes were closed letting a tear roll down his cheek.  
  
"There could have been another way to end the war," Spock said.  
  
"Sweet pea, if ya did that," McCoy said. "there was no third option," Spock lowered his head, ashamed.  McCoy could sense the anger and frustration through their link at what Spock's counterpart had done. But it was the logical thing to do. Speeding up the progress of science just to end a devastating war.  Spock leaned into the man's chest. McCoy's arm twitched landing onto the man's thigh. His hand that was laid on the Vulcan's hand squeezed the green hand. McCoy slowly moved his hand, with some difficulty, to make it move. He was having muscle spasms throughout the day with his upper body parts. He had yet to accomplish the  motor skill of picking something up without dropping it. A phrase, that McCoy had learned during the xenobiology course, came out, "tushah nash-veh k'du."

Smooth and clear from his tongue. He heard the man openly weeping with pauses in between that were increments. Expressing emotions too severely could kill Vulcans. Unlike humans, they were not made _to do that_. Thank god for Vulcan teachers who were patient with people like McCoy. It was a formal language that had notable, iconic phrases. Some of which McCoy did not believe would be relevant in his field of work. Perhaps he should have asked how to properly say I know how you feel in Vulcan should have been asked. As a great  Vulcan philosopher once said " _Kaiidth, what is is._ " Spock could always teach him that phrase.

McCoy forced his hand, painfully, up, to the side of the Vulcan's face right on the hard, but uneven cheeks. The green cheeks that were now solid and clear to his eyes. The rubbed off eyeliner. The over grown bushy eyebrows. Spock leaned back up with his brown eyes a flood of different colors. His eyes were not hazel, that McCoy knew for sure. McCoy smiled at the sight of the Vulcan moving his twitching fingers into the position of the mind meld with a look of understanding. He wanted to shower him in it. _I understand how that feels_ , McCoy thought while wrapping the Vulcan mentally in a blanket of sympathy and comfort.

Warm, fuzzy feelings transpired through the mind meld. McCoy allowed to let Spock feel what he felt about being responsible for the needless loss of his father. Spock slid the doctor out of the support chair and onto the bed. The support chair rested beside the bed. His left placed onto the side of the man's waist. McCoy's left hand moved into the space between them. Spock put his hand on the doctor's hand. McCoy was struck with a image of Spock hugging him, on his feet, with his head on the slender shoulder. Purring could be heard from Spock. The two men were surrounded in warmth and love. McCoy felt the tug of sleep lingering at him. McCoy's hand twitched sliding his fingers off when he became aware of a series of snores coming from Spock.  
  
"I love you, Mr Spock," McCoy said, as his hand traveled down to the side of the man's blue uniform.

It looked good on him. The uniform had a neatly folded cuff. The warmth radiating from the Vulcan's chest also served as a draw to sleep. That majestic, yet not-so-generic face, appearing at peace while snoring. His boyfriend was back. His boyfriend was back. His boyfriend! And Spock was with someone who could not walk. But he was alive and well. That is all which mattered to the doctor. McCoy's baby blue eyes closed falling into the darkness and comforting oblivion. McCoy went to sleep with the thought that he was truly blessed. One of the lucky men in the galaxy.

When McCoy opened his eyes the following morning, he was cloaked by a warm fuzzy blanket and very alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, the new uniforms from AOS have grown on me. Fight me.
> 
> tushah nash-veh k'du= I grieve with thee.
> 
> Thank you Shaakara for answering my Georgia, Atlanta question.


	27. Chapter 27

It was twelve-thirty three Delta Morning and Spock had yet to return. McCoy was in his support chair. He had finished his afternoon exercise and struggled with eating using his spoon featuring jello, pudding and eggs. His clothes clung to him at first three weeks ago like he was wearing a bag. Not eating for three months straight had shown. He could breath well again. Nothing blocking his lungs or his air passageways. His hand still twitched. His head has not experienced the twitches. Moving his head became capable after Sybok's gift but otherwise it was still painful. His neck felt sore from not at all using it for three months and two weeks.  
  
"Your spouse coming?" Johnson asked, looking over to the doctor who rested on the patio in his support chair.

McCoy frowned, glancing over in the direction of the light brown man.  
  
"We are not married," McCoy said. "he is my boyfriend."  
  
"Oh," Johnson said. "your mom said he was your spouse."  
  
"Explains why he was left alone there with me," McCoy grumbled. "and left."  
  
"Asides to Spock, going to get any new visitors?" Johnson asked.  
  
"Don't plan any," McCoy said.  
  
"I will talk to Ellie when she comes for a visit," Johnson said.  
  
"You won't get through her thick skull," McCoy said, holding the padd in one hand that was a crossword puzzle.  
  
"Watch me," Johnson said, going past the doctor.  
  
McCoy looked down at the glowing blue screen. His right hand twitched holding the pen. He moved his hand back to the puzzle. He used his left finger to glide the screen down to see the questions. Crossword puzzles were his specialty. But with his recovery, doing his favorite activity was difficult. He saw a string of text that asked 'what word means star in Vulcan'. McCoy paused, looking back at his lessons in his mind. It was a three lettered word.  The word was 'Yel'. H He moved his stylist to the small box on the screen.  He slowly attempted to write the first letter. His hand twitched making a wavy light blue long line across the screen. Doctor House had been frank with the man earlier that morning that if he at least tried and did not give up with what his recovering body was doing by throwing obstacles, perhaps his recovery would go faster.  
  
The man had worded in a insulting way but he was right. His brain was struggling to learn again to hold a object properly. It was confused for not using certain path ways for so long. He has been trying for the past few days to keep the pen steady. He moved his hand back onto the screen attempting to correct the letter 'y'. A little line was made. Next was 'e'. He made a 'c' that was squiggly then curled the edge to met the side. McCoy was relieved. He had learned new words over the past three weeks. Next was 'l' which was still a difficult letter to do. His hand twitched sending the stylist flying out of his hand. McCoy sighed in annoyance. He can sense Spock was nearby. His index finger twitched, painfully, as he started to reach his hand out feeling his sore elbow. He curled his two fingers into his palm with his thumb underneath and held his two fingers out.  
  
"Nashaut, T'hy'la," Spock returned the gesture completing the ozh'esta. Spock's fingers slid down the man's two fingers sending a wave of warmth and loving feelings through the contact of skin. 

McCoy looked over to see the Vulcan in civilian attire that consisted of a white buttoned up shirt with what appeared to be light blue Vulcan calligraphy posing as the lines with cuffs that lacked any of the lines and the shirt was styled in a very Vulcan style without the shirt collar. Surak knows how Vulcans buttoned up their shirts. McCoy couldn't read Vulcan Calligraphy but he was pretty sure it was a series of love declarations giving Spock's sappy character in private. McCoy had a small smile looking up toward the well rested Vulcan whose eyebrows were thinned out and had a new brand of misty blue eyeliner.

"Nashaut," McCoy said, tenderly.  Spock's long green two fingers hooked around McCoy's small, twitching fingers. "ya tall sweetheart." Spock placed a kiss on the man's forehead. A hint of a smile appeared on the Vulcan's face feeling his boyfriend's glee. So comfortable and at ease with each other in this point of their relationship. Spock knelt down and picked up the pen which he handed back to McCoy.

"Yel is correct," Spock said, placing the pen into his boyfriend's hand. McCoy's hands wrapped around it.

"Really?" McCoy asked. "is there a singular version of star?"

"Negative," Spock said.

"Thought so," McCoy paused. "wait, is there a word for terminate?"  
  
"If you are referring to the movie franchise that spawned the creation of the word. . ." Spock said. "it depends how many boxes you have," McCoy raised an eyebrow back at the Vulcan. Spock's hand now rested on the doctors shoulder. "It is not one word. It is made of other words."  
  
"That formal," McCoy painfully shook his head. He looked over toward the Vulcan wearing a frown. "Spock, sit down and help me with this crossword puzzle! It's got your language prominent in it!"  
  
Spock sat in the black lawn chair alongside the human.  
  
"Who has helped you with your previous attempts?" Spock asked.  
  
"Bryan Fuller," McCoy gestured his free hand toward a Lacciev who was sitting on a bench holding a small item that had what appeared to be a growing mushroom within a soil and missing a few thorns from his head. He lowered his twitching hand to the screen. "not much help, anyway."

"That is impressive," Spock said.

"Ideally," McCoy said. He finished the 'l' to the box. The text glowed a bright shade of blue. He scrolled down the screen to see the next box row. His eyebrows hunched together. He looked over toward the Vulcan. "What word represents  this night in Vulcan?"  
  
"Tor-mu-yor," Spock said. "eight letters."  
  
"That means tonight?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Affirmative," Spock said. "night, in Vulcan, is mu-yor."  
  
"So you have to merge some words to get more words," McCoy said.  
  
"Indeed," Spock said. McCoy raised a eyebrow.  
  
"Can you say Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious in Vulcan?" McCoy said.  
  
"Abru'-vaksur-shau-yehat-vlitau-fai-tukh," Spock said. "equivalent to above beauty fragile pay knowledge."  
  
"Spock, remind me to take ya to a trivial game," McCoy said.  "I didn't expect Vulcan to have  word for it."  
  
"We translated The Lion King as The Sehlat King, Len," Spock said. "you over underestimate Vulcans."

McCoy laughed. "That is amusin',"  
  
"We translated The Lost Boys," Spock said.  
  
"Vulcans. . ." McCoy was dumbfounded.  "Translated. . . That. . . Movie?"  
  
"They remade it," Spock said.  
  
"Good god, man," McCoy said, his eyebrows raised. "did Vulcans go nuts over human media?"  
  
Spock hesitated.  
  
"Plausibly," Spock said.

"Ya hesitated!" McCoy argued. "they went nuts."

"I cannot speak for the Vulcan directors," Spock said. 

McCoy's hand was twitching as he attempted to get down tor-mu-yor. His finger twitched making an error on the screen. The doctor swore to himself. Spock placed a hand to feel the human's frustration with the writing in  general. Who knew it was so difficult to write? He took a shaky breath. Spock sent back encouragement through their link between them. McCoy's frustration died down as he looked over toward Spock.  
  
"Ya wanna hear the bad news?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Leonard, that is a terrible way on getting past your disability," Spock said. "people like you learn to live with it and not give up."  
  
"It is not a disability," McCoy said, he didn't have that fierce argumentive flame inside.  
  
"It is preventing you from doing normal things, therefore, you have a disability," Spoc said.  
  
"You are right," McCoy said.  
  
"And what did you do when you had your first shuttle crash?" Spock asked.  
  
"I dragged my twin out of it," McCoy said.  
  
"Despite your legs being out of commission for the time being," Spock said. McCoy sighed.  
  
"Spock, that was a life or death situation," McCoy said.  
  
"None the less, you lost the pilot and navigator, the security chief, you lost the ability to stand up for  a time being," Spock said. "which may be a part of your fears. But yet, regardless of what you lost, you went forward," Spock pointed at the man's chest. "You didn't fall. You prevailed and you should fight against this because it."  
  
"Bein' paralyzed is not death," McCoy argued. Spock sent a glare that could kill.  
  
"In every retrospect, if you sit still then death might get you easier than it would be normaly," Spock said. McCoy appeared to be alarmed. "which I suspect might be a long lived battle that will not be easy," McCoy looked back over in the direction of the padd. "and I am not the first to tell you this."  
  
"Ya talked with Doctor House?" McCoy said, in a lower voice.  
  
"He advised me to stop babying you," Spock said. "which I have not. Babying you is illogical."  
  
"If I can't be walk for now on then how can I be a doctor?" McCoy said. "God, I must look terrible to ya," he shook his head in disgust. "No one wants to be taking care of someone paralyzed like me for the rest of their natural lives, I am like a sack of bones, flesh, and water," McCoy's eyes pointed at the  masked face. "How would I satisfy you?"  
  
"Doctor," Spock said.  "it appears you need a change of scenery."  
  
"No, I don't!" McCoy protested. Apparently, Spock didn't seem to care  about the possibilities.   
  
"You are experiencing depression," Spock said, as he stood up. "being cooped up in one place for too long can do that to any given being's psyche," McCoy had a feeling that the hobgoblin was reciting something that Doctor M'Benga once said. "and you need a swimming suit and cords for what I have in mind. .  ." he held up his index finger with his eyes on Doctor Wilson who was arguing with Doctor House. "One moment."  
  
Spock walked away.

"Spock, that is a terrible idea!" McCoy shouted.  
  
Spock threw the middle finger back at McCoy.

Nurse Janeway came to the patio.

"Whose that?"  Janeway asked.

" _That_ Vulcan, my dear, is my boyfriend," McCoy said, wearing a small smile at the Vulcan approaching the men near a bed of flowers. Janeway had a surprised expression on his face that turned into realization then horror all in that particular order. 

"Oh shit, I just lost a hundred federation credits to Johnson," Janeway said.


	28. Chapter 28

"Of course I care, Leonard," Spock said, once McCoy floated the changing room in the wheelchair. "I  have and always will."  
  
Spock tilted his head with his eyebrows raised and his arms folded with his left leg over his knee. He was in black pants that ended at his ankles. Spock hadn't changed his shirt during their shopping spree. He had a shopping bag beside his leg that was full of folded towels, black folded shorts, and sun screen. He wore black regulation boots. For some reason, McCoy felt that this Vulcan was a sassy one in space. McCoy was in black swimming trunks and a white buttoned up shirt.  His legs appeared to be thin to the naked eye. It was as though he had lost muscles in his calf due to a terrible surgery.

Spock rubbed his chin observing the man's dressed small frame while mentally undressing the man. Spock fought back a laugh at the image of seeing the man's hairy bare chest and being chastised for doing so. Which Leonard---no, McCoy, would likely do. He assumed the man had a hairy chest. The captain practically had a bare chest. Spock wasn't sure why Jim had a hairless chest unless he had transitioned from womanhood to manhood  that had some side effects. That would be a logical solution. He would need to ask the captain if he was still in the process of transitioning. McCoy's hand twitched as he glared over in the direction of the lieutenant commander.

"Happy now?" McCoy said.  
   
"It will make a good shirt to be on while drying off," Spock said.  
  
"Then ya happy," McCoy said, then he flew back into the changing room.  
  
"Do you need help?" Spock inquired.  
  
"No babying me, asshole!" McCoy replied from inside the changing room.  
  
"I would not wish to baby you on your recovery," Spock said, as he straightened his head. _It would be illogical to baby him,_ Spock mentally added to himself. McCoy had been told twice, in the same day, that he was laying in defeat with his newfound disability blocking him from further moving on. The idea of being paralyzed at the waist was the only thing that made sense to Doctor House and answered why only McCoy arms were moving. "hinek."

"Ah come on, did Johnson tell you that stupid nickname?" McCoy asked.

"It is endearing," Spock said.

"Not really," McCoy said.

"You are a doctor who fixes bones," Spock said.

"Funny, that is what he said," McCoy grumbled to himself.

McCoy grunted, getting the slimming swimming trunks off.

McCoy fell out of the wheelchair with a thud on the floor.

Spock was tempted to stand up and going back in when he recalled what Doctor House had told him, _"Don't. . . Fucking. . .  Baby. . . Him._ " which was a unnecessary way of wording. House could have used better words of English to display just how frustrated he was with McCoy's lack of speedy recovery. McCoy slid on his pants then hooked the swimming trunks up. He got lifted himself onto the bench taking a sigh. He rubbed his hand in a circle on his knee then rubbed his forehead. He didn't think life without his legs would be this difficult. Let alone, recovery, that he had originally thought he wouldn't survive. But here the doctor was, alive, and it felt surreal.

Like a dream that could not be true.

He looked over toward the direction of the support chair that did not have the lap protector up.

McCoy had long ago accepted that he won't be able to feel his legs in the foreseeable future.

It was a depressing thought that McCoy had made his peace with.Then with Spock arriving, not at all at peace with his boyfriend staying at a stagnant state, was pushing him onward. Loved ones did help speed recoveries up. He had seen that happen often in his fathers clinic. McCoy slid the wheelchair alongside him. His hands were twitching. McCoy lifted himself over the hand rests then landed into the soft, warm seating. He put the clipped swimming trunks into his lap. McCoy floated out of the changing room. McCoy went through the doorway coming out of the changing room.

"We should get a gravitational floaty rather than bungi cord floaty due to your disability," Spock said. "logically, you won't slip out."

"Oh hell no," McCoy said. "that is a ghost town."

"It is not a town or occupied with ghosts, hinek," Spock said. "and they are plenty people who cruise it."

"I bet there is not," McCoy said.

"After we purchase your swimming trunks," Spock said, getting up from the chair and picked up the bag.

"For the first time in my life I need a gravitational based floaty," McCoy said. "someone pinch me--Spock!" McCoy yelped as the  Vulcan pinched the man's shoulder. "I was jokin'!"

"You asked," Spock said, as the two walked their way through the rows of clothes racks. A pair of Gangorians went past the two men. "logically, that was a request." McCoy held his two fingers out that were twitching and Spock's two fingers hooked around them returning the gesture sending affection to the human sliding down just above the knuckles. 

"Ya lucky that I love ya," McCoy said, as the Vulcan looked down with heart like eyes toward the chair bound doctor. 


	29. Chapter 29

The water park was a rather unique place to visit. The waterslide where the riders flew from side to side laid in their tubes heading in the direction of the gravitational based pool of water. Children were dancing around in their swimming suits getting wet by the jets of water coming out of the floor from small rounded holes. Transparent, gusts of liquid. A woman lured a man into the gust of water getting him soaking wet. Jim dashed through the slide on the water raft laughing with Scotty close behind him, squealing, in joy waving clutching onto the sides. He was shirtless while wearing black shorts with the design of a constitution class dotting all over. He dashed by the camera as his laughter echoed behind him soaring through the dark tunnel. Scotty's floaty twirling in circles.

Jim's floaty crashed into the water tipping over skidding fast gaining traction sending waves of water flying over the heads of teenagers tickling each other taking turns. Jim's legs propelled him forward grabbing onto the rubber, soft but wet object. He laughed as his head was above water. He slid his curled dirty blonde bangs to the side. He needed to get a hair cut before turning out into space to shorten the bangs. He swam his way toward the stairs until his feet met the floor then climbed out holding his floaty. He had a strange feeling that Spock was nearby. It was a familiar feeling that he had developed in their first year together in space as science officer and captain on away missions. It was a sure feeling that usually eased and calmed him about the away mission. He rubbed the back of his head briefly with his free hand going over to the area of the pool that was dry. The pavement soaked the dripping moisture where it dried on the spot.

The pavement was hot to the touch but Jim did not seem to mind.

He saw a pair of pointy ears and a black bowl hair cut walking among the crowd. 

But why would Spock go to a water park?

Spock didn't strike the man as the type who could swim.

Vulcan's were more dense than humans when it came to floating in water.

That meant they sunk.

Jim's eyebrows rose seeing the figure come into focus but he was looking down in the direction of someone shorter than him. Jim's eyes went lowered to see the remarkably still alive doctor who was rolling an eye. Spock had not spoken of the doctor over their games of chess which was unusual. Even more strange when he knew the man like the back  of his hand and he hit a brick wall when it came to figuring out how the two were doing. Jim had found the book that he had given to Spock laying in his quarters with a padd reading "I will not need this gift" and it was out of character for him. Jim had apparently brought the book with him. He looked down on the white chair where the book laid then picked it up. And he leaped his way, like a ballerina, in the general direction of the two.

"Oh, isn't it Mr I-have-perfect-hair again," McCoy complained, sarcastically.

"Good morning, Jim," Spock said.

"Good morning, Mr Spock, and Mr McCoy," Jim said, he handed the book to the doctor. "this is my relationship gift for you and your boyfriend,"  McCoy raised an eyebrow taking the book. Jim noticed the two men were shirtless with hairy chests compared to his well shaven, baby smooth chest. He directed his next comment to the doctor with a loving, dotting smile. "nice to see you are well, doctor.

"Spock, why didn't you tell me that you were given gifts and not me?" McCoy asked.

"That is your gift," Spock said. "not mine."

"I never heard ya read it to me if it was for me," McCoy said.

"You were not interested in learning Vulcan," Spock said. "and it was three months ago."

"Ya sayin' this--" he waved the book. "is in Vulcan of all thin's?" 

"Mostly," Spock said. "there are some Vulcan words you will not grasp." McCoy's eyebrows hunched together narrowing back at the Vulcan for him to realize that he had crossed a line.

"Uh huh," McCoy said, not satisfied while putting the novel under his arm. "Jim, where is the highest slide?"

"It is the dark orange one," Jim said, he gestured in the general direction of the water slide. McCoy's eyes slowly followed the man's hand and they slowly grew wide at the sight of the tall but massive towering water slide set in the dead middle. Three people came flying out in a straight line with their floatys aimed up and cheering until they crashed into the water turning upside down with the riders. He turned in the direction of the doctor. "But given your--"

"I am goin'!" McCoy's support chair wheeled past the two men.

"The doctor is rather angry at me and it would be illogical to follow him when his fury is fresh," Spock said. "the only help he will need is the support chair being moved and---" he took out a folded floaty from the bag. "this gravitational based floaty will prevent him from falling out." Spock turned away then headed toward a beverage stand.

Jim gawked, realizing that Spock had assigned him with taking care of McCoy.

What had he done?

Jim sighed.

"I should have thought this through," Jim said. His eyes brightened with a smile seeing the Scotsman firing a hydro gun at a group of young men who were firing back with a smaller model in their hands. "Scotty!"

Scotty lowered the hydro gun.

"Aye, Jim?" Scotty lowered his hydro gun.

"I need a favor,"  Jim said.

"Name it!" Three jets of water hit at the side of Scotty's face.

* * *

McCoy made it in line that was getting shorter and shorter.

There were people dripping wet, in front and behind, around the doctor. He could notice the birth marks on the legs of the men that reminded him of different shapes of the states in America. And the shaving cuts on the women's legs. He could see remainments of sunscreen resting on their arms. The shine of the water dripping down the skin. The swimming trunks stuck to the side of the swimmers legs. The long, dark curly hair to the light brown people alongside dark brown people. Their were Orions part of the line that had the notable red mess of hair. Red was a very popular hair color in the Orion civilization. There were men who had small curled locks of hair that were tucked behind their ears and some that had scrunchies up.  
  
"Doctor McCoy!" a older man's voice drew the doctor's attention.  At first glance, McCoy could see that the man had four fingers rather than five fingers once he came to a stop panting with his hands on his knee. He was lacking a middle finger. McCoy raised his arched eyebrow at the man. 

"Do I know ya?" McCoy asked.

"Nae," Scotty said. "Montgomery Scott, but call me Scotty."  
  
"Oooh," McCoy said, in realization. The man's wet hair resting on his forehead just above his eyes had made it difficult to identify the older man. Scotty pressed a button on the side of the flattened device. "Spock has shown a lot about you. You are a miracle worker!"  
  
Scotty smiled.  
  
"Aye," Scotty said. "it is the Enterprise who makes the miracles, not me."

"I will say," McCoy said.  
  
"How are ye feelin'?" Scotty asked.  
  
"Rotten," McCoy said. "should be feelin' better but I don't."  
  
"Ye feel better after goin' on this water slide," Scotty said. "I know I did."  
  
"Ya love the Enterprise!" McCoy said, taken back. Scotty shrugged.  
  
"I love her but sometimes we need time apart," Scotty said.  
  
"Ah, I see," McCoy said. "I sympathize with ya."

"Ever been tae a starbase waterpark before?" Scotty asked.  
  
"Nah," McCoy said. "most starbases have synthetic beaches and I am good with that. None of them were in a starbase designed this way," Scotty's eyebrows raised as he followed the man. "there is always chances that someone will break through the protective barrier with a big ass starship and destroy the walls and cause a catastrophic. Can always happen."  
  
"These walls can nae be penetrated," Scotty said.  
  
"But the entrance can," McCoy said. "someone might take out the defenses, scur through the starbase, and fire at will at everythin' that moves, destroy every buildin' that stands, destroy all the parks, and pavement,"  Scotty's eyebrows lowered. "I don't worry about that happenin' because I only worry about losin' oxygen and gravity bein' lost because of a massive starship crash," McCoy twirled his twitching index finger in a circle. "That is the more likely scenario to happen in this snow globe."

Scotty steadied the floaty at the entrance of the rounded hole.  
  
"Need help gettin' in the floaty?" Scotty asked.  
  
"It seems I do," McCoy said.  
  
Scotty lifted the doctor up from the wheelchair then slid him into the chair. The floaty gravitized McCoy's butt  to it preventing him falling out. Scotty moved the support chair to the side apologizing for the hold up to the other people who appeared to be baffled at a wheelchair bound man lurking around. Back problems were in the middle of being removed such as a spinal regenerator. Replicating a healthy spinal cord. It was also rare to find someone bound by wheelchair in the united federation of planets.  
  
"Ready?" Scotty asked.  
  
"I am ready,  Scotty!" McCoy said.  
  
"Bomb's away!" Scotty slid shoved the floaty through the hole.  
  
"Woohoooooooooooooooooo!" McCoy's voice echoed through the tube. "Weeeeeee!"  
  
The floaty swished from side to side splashing water against the walls.  
  
The surrounding walls gave way and McCoy could see the several parts of the starbase in the distance. Like he was at the very top of it.  He could see the water park and the various stands. He saw hundreds of figures down below that looked like ants. Some of which were ant like such as the Lacciev, the leaf cutting species. McCoy turned his attention away with his arms out enjoying the rush. The floaty bounced from side to side following with the heavy torrent of water speeding down. There were twirls in the water slide. McCoy was engulfed back into the tubes out of the sheer brightness. He noticed there were bright colors reflecting on the wall around him. Now that was a first but it was unnecessary. The ride went faster and faster with portions without the wall surrounding the slide.  
  
It felt like his floaty can fly right off the ride. 

Which would result in a terrible crash landing that resulted in a untimely death.  
  
McCoy shook off the fear.  
  
This was fun.  
  
Undeniably fun.

Finally the exit came as a bright shining circular light. McCoy was laughing while having the time of his life.  McCoy flew over the heads of several young men and women. The floaty flipped over crashing him into the water face first. The floaty turned right side up with his head soaked in water. Both ears felt like they were full. He took out a pair of sunglasses and put them onto the bridge of his nose. Scotty ditched McCoy's wheelchair with Spock. Jim was in the deep end of the pool sitting in a floaty reading a padd with his legs crisscrossed. McCoy allowed the floaty to drift in the large pool as he was relaxed. Perhaps staying at a starbase did have its perks.

* * *

Jim made his way over toward Spock who was sitting in a chair alongside a pair of Loches with the wheelchair along him.  Spock appeared to be in the middle of meditation with his fingers pressed together and his eyes closed not making a sound nor a hum, a sight that Jim would normally see when visiting the Vulcan's quarters on the Enterprise. The Vulcan appeared to be at peace. It became apparent that Spock had thought of visiting this place on the whim. Spock sensed the captain's presence nearing him. Spock slipped out of meditation opening his eyes to see the shirtless man with both hands on his hips.  
  
"Why Mr Spock,"  Jim said. "you should be enjoying yourself."  
  
"I am, Jim," Spock replied.  
  
"Meditating is not the same as getting a floaty and having fun," Jim said. "for being more dense than a average human I thought you would disregard it and find a way to have fun with your  S. O."  
  
"There is two ways S. O. can go," Spock said.  
  
"Science Officer, security officer, second officer, superior officer. and significant other," Jim said. The captain smiled back at the lieutenant with heart like eyes. "five ways."  
  
"The doctor is enjoying his quality time," Spock said.  
  
"Mr Spock," Jim said. "have you learned to swim?"  
  
"I do not need to swim as I can watch my boyfriend enjoying it," Spock said.  
  
Jim folded his arms.  
  
"You must learn to swim," Jim said. "we might come across a planet with civilization underwater. . ."  
  
"That is highly illogical," Spock said. "living underwater is not plausible as the first step forward of evolution, in most species, requires going to land," Jim nodded to what the Vulcan was saying.  "and the thousands of other planets are emerged from the water. Atlantis and merpeople do not count nor do sirens."

"I will sign you up for swimming lessons," Jim said. "for mission purposes."  
  
"I will elect to ignore it," Spock said.  
  
"The Enterprise cannot lose one of the best men in the fleet over not being able to learn to swim," Jim said. "what if you fell into a puddle and it turned out to be a ocean in reality?"  
  
"Not plausible," Spock said.  
  
"Mr Spock," Jim said, again. "Of our first year in space. . . we have faced ridiculous layers of logic."  
  
"Indeed," Spock said. "but that is due to the way the planet was made and science."  
  
"Science," Jim said.  
  
"Science," Spock repeated.  
  
"What if science is your downfall?" Jim asked. "scanning the water when you suddenly tip over, you fall, and you kick your legs but you keep falling. A thought occurs to you, you could be out of this if you knew how to swim but it is too late, you are drowning," Spock did not have an answer. "by the time this shore leave is over, I want you to know how to swim. It's logical for a five year mission in deep space."

"That is logical," Spock remarked.  It was, in reality, a excuse to have Spock learn to swim and eventually go swimming with his significant other. The possibility of finding a civilization based underwater was remote and highly unlikely just as Spock had said.  Spock may be expendable but he was not expandable to the captain.  
  
"Has he met the parents?" Jim asked.  
  
"Negative," Spock said. "the state that he is in now. . . would be . . . quite illogical. It would not be a positive experience."  
  
"Might do some good with his recovery," Jim said. "and something to look forward to for him."  
  
Spock raised an eyebrow at the captain, tilting his head, baffled.  
  
"Sometimes anxiety is our best friend and then it is. . ." Jim started.  
  
"Your worst friend," Spock finished.  
  
"Afraid so," Jim said, with a nod. "my apologies for disrupting your day with your boyfriend."  
  
"There is no need for apologies,"  Spock said. "it was bound to happen."  
  
"I do not need to be the one to sign you up for the lessons?" Jim asked.  
  
"I will acquire myself a slot," Spock said.  
  
Jim  smiled back at the Vulcan then went over to retrieve his floaty that was in the shape of the USS Enterprise with two nacelles at the back and a hole right in the saucer section.  He pranced his way to the row of stair cases leading up to the tall tubes going to a different staircase that lead to a maze of people flowing forwards. Spock took  sip of the drink that he had purchased from the nearest station. It felt warm to his mouth as he finished off the small disposable glass. Spock looked over to see the novel was laid in a pocket that was to the side of the machine. Spock gently tugged at the link between himself and McCoy feel the doctor's content. Spock could not see the man from the crowded massive pool.

* * *

McCoy fell asleep on the floaty.  He fell asleep, all right, enjoying the sounds of people having fun.n What a time to feel alive. He dreamed of riding a bubble seahorse  with a bubble around his head allowing him to breath. The dream had a half octopus man who took his ability to move his lower legs in order to meet this strange, mysterious man on the surface. McCoy awoke when the crab started talking. When he awoke his stomach was growling and there was a familiar, tall figure standing above him. McCoy could see through the dark shade of the sunglasses feeling well rested. His right hand twitched as his stomach loudly grumbled. He could hear the squirts of hyrdro guns. He lowered his glasses to see a jet of water flying over the Vulcan's head.

"Would you like a corn dog?" Spock inquired, McCoy noticed that the Vulcan was luring the floaty toward him using a long thin metal rod.  
  
"Hmm," McCoy said. "not sure that is healthy for someone like me."  
  
"Your legs need fat," Spock said. "or would you prefer sugar fried onion rings?"  
  
"No!" McCoy  splashed water back at the Vulcan landing onto the Vulcan's hairy legs. "No onion rings!"  
  
Spock resisted the temptation to roll his eyes at that.  
  
"Then would cotton candy be preferable?" Spock asked.  
  
"No," McCoy said, as the Vulcan was knelt down to the human's level and lifted the floaty out onto the nearby floor.  
  
"Leonard," Spock said. "you must eat _something_." the Vulcan stressed out in the last part.  
  
"I don't eat carnival food," McCoy said.  
  
"This is not a carnival," Spock said.  He pressed a button on the side of the human's device with his hand on the human's slender, long shoulder.

"Ya should join my next ride," McCoy said.  
  
"Illogical," Spock said. "I do not believe the raft can support my weight."  
  
"Ya skinny as a stick," McCoy said, raising a brief eyebrow. "ya not that heavy."  
  
"I assure you, I am," Spock said.  "Looks can be deceiving."

"Logically, sweetie," McCoy said. "since it can right itself up, that means, reasonably, it can withstand your weight."  
  
"Negative," Spock said, lifting the man into the wheelchair.  "you are the thin one. I am the one with the muscles."  
  
"Muscles?" McCoy asked, pretending to be shocked. "What muscles do you have?" he had his right twitching hand on the Vulcan's  left but hairy fore arm that was more rounded and had more muscle tone than McCoy's. "ya don't have muscles. The muscles ya have are natural and ya don't need exercise."  
  
"You are flattering," Spock said, holding his two fingers out.

"Ya eat well," McCoy said, returning the gesture and his  fingers twitched brushing Spock's fingers missing them all together. Spock's long, two green fingers caught the two fingers grabbing them into a hold in the center sending affection toward the human. A different form of affection was unleashed upon the doctor. Undying, deeply passionate stable affection. It was this way mostly due to this being the Vulcan equivalent of french kissing. His cheeks turned a shade of pink while his stomach growled.    
  
"Taluhk nash-vek k'du," Spock said.

"I win," McCoy said, with a snicker.  
  
"Not until the fat woman sings," Spock said, unhooking his finger around McCoy's now steady two fingers.

McCoy's hand lowered to the side.  
  
"There is a fat woman singing at a theater tonight," McCoy said. Spock put the long, shortened rod into his pocket. "is there any other reason why ya prefer not to join me?" Spock  paused, folding the floaty.  
  
"When I know how to swim," Spock said.

"Oh," McCoy said. His face full of understand then it turned into a pissed off one with his face turning red. "ya should have told me that on the way here!"  
  
"I did not want to damper your mood," Spock said.  
  
"Screw that," McCoy said. "ya goin' be on the floaty, hold me, and go down the damn water slide and have fun!" Spock was about to open his mouth when the doctor continued. "Which means ya won't have to go swimmin' with that arrangement," Spock closed his mouth. "Ya will get wet, if anythin'."

"If you eat something, I will take it under consideration," Spock said.

McCoy smiled.  
  
"That can be arranged," McCoy said.

"Excellent," Spock said.

The two men left the pool. McCoy admired the Vulcan's shirtless chest. His long, slim flat arms and long fingers. The two men passed several goers but yet in the background we can see behind Spock's head a figure with golden curly hair in a Enterprise floaty jet out of a  light blue circular tunnel to the left hand section of the facility. The two men made their way to the snack section of the area. There was  a verity of food left out for advertisement. McCoy tapped his chin while  Spock was quick to take vegetables. McCoy hummed to himself unable to determine what to chose.  What was on the menu looked excellent. All of the food appeared to be excellent. There was  hot, steamy sausage covered in sugar, there was fish fingers coated in cheese, there was chips covered in hot cheese, there was heated rice with fruit and vegetables, and different kind of  food related edible food. There were Gangorians at tables eating small rice like food off their plates using spoons. It almost looked like fish food at first glance. Small, square multicolored pasta like pieces resembling raviolis.

Spock carefully took out a plate then used the long, slender arms of the clipped mechanical device to put the sausages on the late. He placed the plate on the ledge then dipped some corn onto the plate including three large spoons of pudding. McCoy's eyes widened seeing a large portion of rice be put onto the plate. McCoy placed a hand on the  Vulcan's forearm sending the feeling of horror with the message of 'enough'. Spock turned his head in the direction of the human then nodded his head. McCoy let go of the Vulcan's forearm. Spock then put vegetables onto his empty plate. McCoy's trembling hand reached out to the silverware. His hand twitched grazing over over to the spork. Which was good enough. He picked up the spork placing it onto the side of his plate. He moved his hand toward the knives only to have it flick to the usual spoons. McCoy sighed, in annoyance, moving it back to the plastic knives. He grabbed the handle while his hand twitched then placed it on his plate.

Spock finished filling his plate.  
  
"Would you rather eat away from the others?" Spock inquired.  
  
"No," McCoy said. "I am a social animal. Despite the annoyin' twitches, I can make do with conversations."  
  
"As you wish," Spock said.  
  
The two men came to a table that was somewhat occupied lacking a seat to the left side of it.  
  
"Miss Uhura, Miss Chapel, Miss Rand," Spock said, drawing the attention of the giggling women.

Nyota turned her head in Spock's direction chewing on a french fry that was sticking half way out of her mouth and a smile grew on her face, a pleased one in fact, and Christine used a napkin to clean the side of the woman's face while leaning forward on the table raised above the surface. Alongside Christine sat Janice who was eating a blizzard in a red swimming suit that looked great on her body. Her long hair was resting on her shoulders while some of it looked like it had been curled but it really looked like someone gave up on braiding it all together. McCoy was not at the least surprised to see this kind of hair style. It was a pleasing sight to see. The 1960's hair style was coming back viciously in Star Fleet with the women.

The women's eyes aimed at the men.  
  
"Doctor McCoy," Christine said, with a smile. "it is good to see you."  
  
Nyota chewed her french fry, nodding, ferociously.  
  
"Congratulations for making it through the surgery," Janice said.  "news travels fast on the Enterprise."

"Thank ya," McCoy said, moving to the free space. He tremblingly moved the plate on to the metal table.  
  
Spock took out a napkin placing it alongside the man's right hand.  
  
"Say, anythin' interestin' happen in space?" McCoy asked.

"We'll tell you the highlights," Janice said.  
  
"The highlights are better than the mundane, non surprising events," Nyota agreed.  
  
"I like mundane," McCoy said.  
  
"We'll list them," Christine said.  
  
McCoy raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Salt vampire," Christine said.  
  
"Charlie Evans," Janice said.  
  
"Polywater intoxication," Nyota said.  
  
"The captain being split into two people," Janice added.  
  
"The gentle and the aggressive," Nyota said.  
  
"Immortal children," Janice said.  
  
"A doctor destroying people's minds," Christine said.  
  
"Fleet Captain  Pike," Spock said.  
  
"Romulans," Christine said.  "they look like Vulcans except for the 'v' forehead crest."  
  
"And shore leave on a planet that gives you what you want!" Nyota said. "It is a shame that I didn't see the real Spock there." she shook her head earning raised eyebrows from Spock. McCoy was eating the pudding first with his spork that was trembling in his grip as he appeared not to be surprised by it.  
  
"The captain wanted Spock more than women?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I am not sure how he wanted but it wasn't romantic by the looks of it," Nyota said. "they just . . . hung around. . on the hill. After his former fling had vanished," she shrugged. "he frankly enjoyed shore leave more than  we did," her eyes flickered over toward the Vulcan. "I think the captain feels more at home with you around."  
  
"Ah," McCoy said. A soft, fond smile grew on the doctors face. His eyes lit up. "friendship."

"Indeed," Spock said, bowing his head. Like he had been believed.  
  
It became clear to the doctor that Jim enjoyed Spock's company as he did with the Vulcan. Perhaps it wasn't romantic as McCoy had thought. But all the mind melds had shown those love heart eyes directed at Spock. He had also directed heart eyes at every person that he had seen except for those who was the villain of the week which was women most of the time. But valuing friendship over romance? It wasn't sexual. It was, something, different that the human understood. Love had various forms. Caring and affectionate to name a few. McCoy resumed eating his lunch that Spock had retrieved for him. One day he wouldn't need help putting food on his plate. Moving his hands steadily. His fingers not twitching nor his entire hand twitching.

"Do you two play anything other than 3-D chess?" Nyota asked.  
  
"It is a challenging game," Spock said. "it exercises patience and intellect."  
  
"A challenging game. . ." Nyota said. "if it is so challenging then why do you always lose to the captain?"  
  
"Because the captain thrives in challenges," Spock said. "with illogical solutions."  
  
"I don't know about you but it looks like you lose on purpose," Janice said. "just to see him smile."  
  
"Negative," Spock said.  
  
"I do that all the time with Jim,"  Nyota said.  
  
"Me too," Janice said.  
  
"Me three," Christine said.  "anyone would do the same thing. He is so. ." she waved her hand. "adorable--"  
  
"When he is happy!" Nyota finished, earning a laugh from the doctor.

"I figured that he is that kind of golden man," McCoy said. "it's okay to admit it, Spock."

"I decline to answer," Spock said.  
  
"All right," Nyota said. "Doctor, you should have seen the little animal that we picked up."  
  
"It was the size of a little puppy," Christine said.  
  
"It was like a dalmatian but then it wasn't with the wings," Nyota said.  
  
"It had the head of a dalmatian," Janice said.  
  
"The torso of a dog," Nyota said.  
  
"The tail of a lion," Janice said. "that was a Dalion. It had the lower limps of a lion."  
  
"But it didn't have a mane," Nyota said.  
  
"It was a female,"  Janice said.  
  
"Females can grow manes," McCoy said. "[naturally](http://www.pinknews.co.uk/2015/12/23/scientists-discover-genderfluid-lioness-who-looks-acts-and-roars-like-a-male/) possible."

"No, it isn't," Christine said.  
  
"Look it up," McCoy said, as  Spock handed Janice his personal pad.  
  
"Transgender lionesses," Janice said, rolling an eye. She searched on the internet.  
  
Christine looked over the woman's shoulder.  
  
"Lionesses can not be gender fluid," Christine said. "that is just--"  
  
"Too surreal," Nyota said.

"Out of the ordinary," Christine agreed.  
  
Janice stopped, staring at the screen, with widened eyes then back toward the doctor.  
  
"You are not shitting with me," Janice said.  
  
McCoy shook his head.  
  
"No," McCoy said.

Christine looked over to see the long page going on about the phenomenon. Her eyes slightly widened, her jaw fell, and her eyebrows were hunched together. She blinked, stunned, at the information laying in front of her. It was real. It was real, hard, concrete information from a reliable source. There was a picture of a lioness with a mane on the front alongside the text. It was a piece of knowledge that was relatively new and stunning. Something that no one would have ever expected. It was also startling because she should have learned that growing up as common knowledge.  
  
"Damn," Christine said. She slid her jaw back up.  
  
"Who would have thought that," Janice said, handing Nyota the padd.  "gender fluid."

Spock carefully ate his vegetables.

"I did not think that would be possible," Christine commented, slightly irked. "the animal kingdom is still a mystery but dumbfounding."

"We figured out what lurks in the deep," Nyota said.

"Frightening, awe inspiring, and beautiful," Janice said.

"This is unique.  . ." Nyota said. "and here I thought we were the weird evolution of primates."

"Negative, that goes to the people of Gangor who by instict go to the nearest mountain and latch on to any solid rock surface above level an hour before a devastating flood arrives," Spock said.

"Oh really?" Nyota asked. "What about the Lacciev?"

"The Lacciev does not count," Spock said.

"They live on a planet with gigantic trees," Nyota said. "Which makes it logical for their ability to climb trees, cut leaves, and stare at leaves, therefore, they are more bazaar."

"Gangorian behavior is still . . . unusual. . . compared to all the other species," Spock said.  "and they eat smaller types of food to sustain themselves."

"Which makes them the most bazaar species in the sector," Nyota said.

"They are bazaar and capable of breathing under water," Spock said. "but I doubt they have a sub species that are sea horse based."

"Ya never know," McCoy said. "ya might come across a species with a sea horse head when ya go back out into space. And they will have feet instead of a tail but have  pouch inside like their counterparts," the doctor twirled his  twitching index finger. "with stron' arms and legs to keep themselves from bein' blown away. Ya know the automatic 'grab anythin' that stands' type when there is a stron' wind going."

"I look forward to meeting a humanoid with a sea horse head,"  Nyota said, looking off into the distance with one hand on the side of her face.

"It would be a cute thin' to see," McCoy said. "somehow . . I feel like I would be terrified at first sight."

"I would be too until the shock wore off," Christine said. "and then focus on taking care of them."

"Willing to bet that ya wouldn't even scream," McCoy waved, waving his trembling fork.

"She wouldn't," Janice said. "she barely screams when it comes to being frightened."

"Not if a ensign can help it," Nyota pipped up.

A smile slowly grew on the Vulcan's face, which was mostly ignored by the women, but it was not entirely ignored. Not by a certain, paralyzed human. The smile was beautiful coming from Spock, long and wide, a complete set of white clean teeth with k-nines that were sharp. Spock almost looked like a vampire. But that smile! It made McCoy feel like he was looking at a human being. A quite handsome one at that. _I am datin' that man_ , McCoy thought. McCoy stopped chewing the sausage letting it go down his throat. It stopped in his throat from going down further as it was too big to go down. It felt like McCoy could not breath. His head began to spin. He began to choke leaning forward toward the table. Spock became a blur to the human.  Spock leaned the man forward then delivered a hard chop to the man's back.  
  
The sausage was dislodged landing onto the plate.

"Thank ya, Spock," McCoy said, breathing a sigh of relief.  
  
"Chew, then swallow, doctor," Spock said. "or do you need to learn it again?'  
  
"Now, you listen here, pointy eared," McCoy said, pointing his index  finger at the Vulcan. "just because I was bedridden doesn't mean I forgot to chew!"  
  
Spock raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Did you?" Spock asked, his arms folded, sitting down back at his seat.    
  
"Well," McCoy said. "this instance counts because of the smile you shined."  
  
"What smile?" Nyota asked, alarmed.

"I didn't see a smile," Janice said, as Spock took a bite from his vegetable.  
  
"Aw," Christine said. "that is sweet."  
  
"I do not smile," Spock said.  
  
"It is too beautiful for me," McCoy said, dramatically, shielding his eyes turning his head away.

"Now, that, I know is not true," Spock said.  
  
The three women laughed as Spock resumed eating his lunch. McCoy plowed through the lunch cleaning the plate. Spock watched the man's hands frequency of twitching turn into trembling. It was a soothing, comforting sight for the Vulcan. The more that the doctor used his hand, the more he did not pay attention to what his hands were doing except for the occasional flicks of his pudding onto Nyota's plate. Nyota, bless her, was too amused to react to it and decided to ignore it. The Vulcan gently stroked at the growing link between him and the doctor. McCoy felt something different when Spock gently stroked the link sending encouraging emotions toward him. Then there was touching pride for the doctor. McCoy's cheeks were turning heated as he glanced back the Vulcan munching on his vegetables. Right over the Vulcan's shoulder, something caught the human's attention. McCoy saw a familiar figure. It looked like his grandpa TJ holding his hand. The little boy looked like him with baby blue eyes looking up toward him. The doctor shook his head  
  
He was nostalgic.  
  
Nothing else.  
  
For no reason at all.  
  
When McCoy looked again, the two figures were gone. 

Nostalgia was the only reasonable explanation. It was the most reasonable explanation for the doctor. The human sighed in relief as the Vulcan was focused on eating that he didn't notice the man's reaction.  The women were busy talking ignoring the change in his demeanor. The way McCoy's skin turned white. The way his eyes grew small. The way he froze in place. The way his heart pulled a string. The doctor slowly counted back from ten to calm himself down. This time, however, he cut the sausage into small tiny pieces so it can go down his throat without choking him the next time a rare smile came from the Vulcan. He resumed eating the pudding listening to the women exchange stories about their time on the Enterprise. The conversation was changing to animals.  
  
"There is a center for breeding unidogs on the Yorktown some where around here," Christine said. "a few blocks at least."  
  
"I believed they were not common," Spock said.  
  
"Well," Christine said. "they are getting easier to get by."  
  
"Intriguing," Spock said.  
  
"It is a shame I can't get Tommy  company," Nyota said. "he would love the unidog."

"Whose Tommy?" McCoy asked. "Spock never showed me a Tommy."  
  
"My black pug," Nyota said. "of course he has never seen Tommy. . . Tommy hates cats. And cats don't like Tommy."  
  
"It is true," Christine said. "he has a grudge on cats unlike most dogs."  
  
Janice laughed.  
  
"It is hilarious," Janice said. McCoy glanced in Spock's direction with a raised arched eyebrow.  
  
"Tommy scratches Spock at any chance that he gets," Nyota said. "makes sense why he wouldn't show that to you."

McCoy had a look of sympathy at the Vulcan.

* * *

Scotty exited the pool maze with his floaty in hand. He joined the growing line to see a tall green figure and a Caucasian long, thin hand trembling holding onto something small. Scotty came to the back end noticing a smaller green man standing behind them in line with their arms folded. Scotty towered over the smaller alien. Scotty leaned to his side looking off into the distance to see the captain was in the dead center that was cluttered up with people ally eyes on a charismatic figure speaking with a mix of men and women. Scotty rolled an eye. Of course he got attention.  Jim got attention on him wherever he went.  Poor lad. That attention one day will be a pain in the ass when the captain does not need it.  
  
Scotty could picture the media on his left, back, and right but not in the lead. He could picture Spock in the lead allowing room for Jim to get somewhere urgent. Of course, this would only happen when the man was considerably older. When his interest in talking had waned as had his patience. The golden curly hair turning a shade of white. His once prominent, youthful figure sagged into a rounded one in formal attire. Jim would make a great fleet captain. The thought of it felt fitting. Because he would never, ever, leave space at the rate that he was at now. He could picture Spock closing the door along side him, looking not a day older but perhaps with a few new lines here and there. It was a plausible scenery. Scotty  overheard a debate from in front of himself. It was Spock and McCoy. The two men had finally made up. The Scotsman sighed, in relief, that he wouldn't need to continue the favor that Jim had asked of him. The last he had seen the doctor was relaxing in his floaty wearing sunglasses that might have come from his ass.

The good doctor had kept them there the entire time. 

"If ya were blinded, what would you do?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I will resign,"  Spock said. "and find a activity that warrants my current skills."  
  
"Uh huh," McCoy said. "or ya can clone your eyes in the black market. Ya toast as a scientist without those eyes."  
  
"That is illogical," Spock said.  
  
"It is the ethical thin' to do," McCoy said. "because from what the women recounted to me what ya failed to tell me is seems ya  very fine, damn lieutenant commander."  
  
"Aye!" Scotty agreed.  
  
McCoy looked over the Vulcan's shoulder with a short wave.  
  
"Thanks for the help, Scotty," McCoy said.  
  
"Lon' as I dae nae have to do it all the time then I am cool with it," Scotty said.  
  
"See?" McCoy said. "You would need help in your new life. I am not sure if a blind man and a paralyzed man can co-exist without difficulties."  
  
"I have excellent memory over my surroundings," Spock said. "being blind will not thwart my day to day activities."  
  
"Meditating, taking a sonic shower, gettin' dressed, sending a message, and writin'," McCoy started to say as his attention directed his attention toward the Vulcan. "now as I was saying. Star Fleet shouldn't lose that over somethin' that can be fixed."  
  
"You can be my eyes," Spock said. "which, in all consideration, is the prime example of beauty from the human race."

"Spoilin' me rotten callin' my eyes beautiful," McCoy said, his cheeks becoming heated. "but human eyes cannot catch everythin'."  
  
"I nearly missed a stop sign on the last earth planet durin' a away mission," Scotty said.  
  
"See?" McCoy asked. "Vulcan eyes are better."  
  
"I see the advantages of having my eyes instead of yours. . ." Spock said.  
  
"One, they don't get nerves stressed out," McCoy said. "two, they don't roll right out of ya head after rollin' ya eyes too much, and three, they are incredibly observant to detail humans cannot catch."  
  
"Would you do it?" Spock asked. "go into the black market if you were blinded."  
  
McCoy nodded.  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. "and no one would ever know because it was clean and efficient."  
  
"You imply that you have connections in the medical community willing  to cross a line," Spock said.  
  
"I do," McCoy said. "completely ethical as lon' as it is not grown from a human body."  
  
"Compared to what you lack and I have," Spock said. "that would be a difficult task of returning."  
  
"Now hold on," McCoy said. "we are not comparin' my disability to your hypothetical blindness!"  
  
"It is a permanent  to the moment type of ordeal, doctor," Spock said. "therefore my hypothetical blindness would be a logical comparison."

"Well butter my biscuits, ya just won a debate," McCoy said, amused.  
  
"Indeed," Spock said.  
  
The short, green man was tapping his right foot.  
  
"Hello," Scotty said, directly toward the green man. "how are ye today?"  
  
Keenser shrugged.  
  
"Hello, lad, I am Scotty," Scotty said.  
  
Keenser turned toward the man with his small, rounded eyes sticking out of the sockets.  
  
"Who might ye be?" Scotty asked.  
  
"Keenser," Keenser said. "and you are the chief engineer of the Enterprise."  
  
"Aye," Scotty said. "she is my baby."  
  
"Is it true about engineering being a war zone?" Keenser asked.  
  
"When it comes tae ion storms then it does get messy," Scotty said. "all of which true."  
  
"And the transporter malfunctions?" Keenser asked.  
  
Scotty nodded, holding his floaty to his side.  
  
"Not like it is goin' tae send us tae a alternate timeline one of these days," Scotty said.  
  
"Oh dear," Keenser said.

"What?" Scotty said.  
  
"You are asking for it to happen," Keenser said.  
  
"There is nae chance of it happenin'," Scotty said.  
  
"From the stories I heard on my ship, chances of anything remotely unusual goes up exponentially for the Enterprise," Keenser said. "a lieutenant security officer has been talking about his near-misses and all the weird stuff that goes on the ship."  
  
"Aye," Scotty said. "part of bein' in space."  
  
"But that doesn't happen on most vessels," Keenser said.  
  
"That is because they are nae in deep space," Scotty said.  
  
"Point taken," Keenser said. "how often do you find something. . unusual. . . occurring in the ship?"  
  
"More often than ya think," Scotty said, as the line moved. "some of the best engineers get hurt when there is not a ion storm."  
  
"I know how that feels," Keenser related.  
  
"Ye in engineerin'?" Scotty asked.  
  
"Lieutenant commander," Keenser replied.

"That is cool!" Scotty said. "I am a Liuetenant Commander, tae. What ship are ye posted on?"  
  
"The USS Hope," Keenser said.  
  
"The hospital ship?" Scotty asked.  
  
"Affirmative," Keenser said, nodding as he followed the line.  
  
"Aye, that's the second best medical ship in the fleet asides tae the bunker hill," Scoty remarked.  
  
"And the princeton-plainsborough teaching recovery wing," Keenser said.  
  
"That is nae a ship," Scotty protested.  
  
"It works like one," Keenser said. "I once spent a week there regaining my vision."

 Scotty raised a baffled eyebrow.  
  
"How is it like a starship?" Scotty asked.  
  
"Everyone reports to the person who is the head of the facility," Keenser said. "there is several employed technicians who have to fix what somehow breaks apart or has a bad glitch. A bit like engineering which occurs often. A good deal of science and medicine works together in the recovery wing. The nurses make sure the patients are recuperating fine. Sometimes they have problems with the recovery so there are on sight doctors including from cancer procedures. Security Officers, at the front doors, are alerted to when a patient is capable of going out the facility during their recovery. A low risk job."  
  
"Aye," Scotty said. "I see why it is like a starship."

"It is," Keenser said. "depending on how it is operated, it can be strict or be family friendly."

McCoy pressed a button that inflated the device then Spock placed it down. The floaty was built to be like a chair with two cup holders at both sides. The back rest and butt rest section hummed to life glowing a shade of light blue. Spock positioned the chair in the entrance with his left hand. He slid his other hand underneath the human and easily held him up without any support. Spock slid himself in to the seat using his left hand to prevent the floaty from sliding out of place. He was earning looks of concern from Scotty and those behind him. But it was a impressive sight to see from a Vulcan. Spock placed the man onto his lap. They were in the entrance of the blue tube.

Spock let go of the side of the wall.  
  
Spock did not believe that such a delighted, loud squeal could come from a small, shorter human.  
  
Intriguing.  
  
Spock had a tight grip on the man's sides keeping them in place.  
  
Spock's heart raced against where his liver should be which was not in the chest but rather where his lower abdomen was. Spock smelled the man's clean, combed hair that smelled unique. A fruity, floral fragrance that mixed notes of magnolia and aster flower with Georgia's prided peaches and a soft undertone of white musk. He needed to pay a visit to Georgia with his boyfriend when he could walk on a away mission.  Spock kissed along the man's neck earning laughter. A smile curled on the edge of the  Vulcan's cheek while nuzzling the side of McCoy's neck. A deep, beautiful purr came from the Vulcan as the water splashed into the floaty getting the Vulcan partially wet. The floaty jetted through the tubes and through the portions that lacked ceilings.

McCoy turned sideways in the direction of the Vulcan, his trembling hands traveled to the Vulcan's shoulder blades right over the long shoulder, his legs on the Vulcan's legs,while leaned forward toward the Vulcan. The human leaned forward turning his head to the side until his lips ended on Spock's. A wave of warmth carried its way through their growing link to Spock as McCoy relaxed in the kiss almost melting. Spock returned the kiss, passionately, as his left hand traveled down to the doctors's feminine like hip where he gently squeezed and his other hand went to the back of the human's head with his eyes closed.  It was a slow, but steady and long kiss. Spock felt the inside of the man's mouth where he massaged it  
  
The floaty jetted out into the water recieving a large, yet huge splash on them.  
  
Spock let go of the back of McCoy's cranium, gasping, for breath.  
  
"Not bad for a first kiss," McCoy said.  
  
"Technically, it is our make out," Spock said.  "and we are on second base."  
  
"That doesn't count, damn it," McCoy said.  "that was a . . . uh. . non-physical one."

"What about the other times we kissed in mind meld?" Spock inquired.  
  
"They weren't physical!" McCoy protested.  
  
"Hmmm.  .  ." Spock said. "perhaps we should catch up on the kisses we never had. And then, logically, get to second base."  
  
"We cuddle afterwards," McCoy said.  
  
"Leonard--" Spock started.  
  
"No ifs, buts, whines about it," McCoy said. "I like your company."  
  
Spock bowed his head.  
  
"As you wish," Spock said.  
  
"Now, where were we?" McCoy asked.  
  
"We were in the middle of this--" Spock brought the human into the kiss once more with a hand on the side of his face while the floaty gently went down the path. McCoy's right hand squeezed the Vulcan's shoulder, nearly digging his fingernails into the man's shoulder, gently letting go once releasing the strong, living passion. Their foreheads touched once the vVulcan briefly ended it. "and this. . ." he kissed along the human's neck, slowly, sending a shiver up the man's spine while the Vulcan purred.  
  
"As much as I love ya, we are not makin' out in a waterpark," McCoy said, gazing back the Vulcan's brown eyes. "let me give you the McCoy standard of kiss plantin'," the human planted small kisses along the man's jaw and his cheek.  He kissed along the Vulcan's temples then to the middle of his head as Spock kept a stoic, rock like expression attempting to prevent himself from falling apart with his many years of Vulcan training before the human's eyes. McCoy's hand grazed Spock's getting a flash of what the Vulcan was experiencing. The human had a sympathetic expression on his face. "Awww . . .  ya poor sweet-heart."  
  
McCoy's lips met met the smooth, soft lips of Spock.

 _Taluhk nash-vek k'du, hinek,_ Spock thought to himself, feeling, experiencing, a new non-categorized emotion for the first time.

A feeling that he belonged.

A feeling where the pieces of the puzzle fit together.

A feeling where he didn't need to search anymore for where he belonged.

A feeling that made his heart soar.

His entire being soar into the air.

Which was illogical because it was only possible via sky orbit or fair rides.

It registered as happiness.

Now Spock understood the meaning behind the word 'happiness' that humans referred to so often.


	30. Chapter 30

"When did your arm's start twitching again?" Johnson asked, clicking the back end of the pen.

"This morning," Johnson looked back up with a questionable expression. "I didn't notice last night because all I was thinkin' about was how my day was with Spock. . ." he had a fond expression at the memory from the day before. "seven thirty-three delta night?" the doctor shrugged. "Not sure when it actually started."

"Any facial weakness?" Johnson asked.

"Yes," McCoy said, jokingly. "stuck smilin' for half an hour."

Johnson shook his head, bemused, by the doctor.

"Trouble breathing?" Johnson asked, looking back up toward McCoy.

"Not at all," McCoy said.

"Bones, you have made considerable progress with your arms," the man gestured toward the man's still hands. "Not twitching as much as they were yesterday. . . And your mood is better," Johnson noted, jotting down on the flat padd with a pen. "I dare say that you might be able to walk tomorrow."

"Shut up," McCoy said.

"Miracles can always happen," Johnson said.

"Me?" McCoy said, one hand on his chest. "A miracle?" he glared at the younger man. "That is insultin'."

"Not at all," Johnson said, with a wave of his hand. He noticed the slight twitch of McCoy's index finger. "a couple more days and you could be out of here,"  McCoy had a heavy sigh. "people like you find ways to continue their hobbies. Sometimes, people from below, get to see things they would not necessarily see when they could stand."

"I rarely spot anythin' critical from the legs," McCoy said.

"It can happen," Johnson repeated.  "Just leave the sign off to Mr House and  Mr House."

"They are not married yet," McCoy said.

Johnson sighed, in annoyance.

". . . I forgot," Johnson said, his eyes back on the screen.

"They are gettin' married in December, I bet'cha," McCoy said.

"They have been at this for five years," Johnson said. "they will never come around. Not even if it has to come to a building collapse," he looked up toward the man sitting on the bed who was glaring right at him. "not that it has to come down to it."

McCoy's hand twitched on his lap.

"I feel like that could happen with them," McCoy said.

Johnson nodded his head.

"Is the personal sonic tub  comfortable?" Johnson asked.

"I am still not used to needin' a nurse to help me go in and out a bath tub," McCoy said, earning raised eyebrows from the man. "Janeway is a nice nurse and it is embarrassin' that she sees how . . . ."

"Bones," Johnson said, placing a hand on the man's shoulder.

"I feel like I am fallin' apart but not really," McCoy said. "I should have known puttin' myself back together was not easy."

"Nothing is easy," Johnson said.

"Have you dealt with patients like me?" McCoy asked, with a curious expression on his face.  
  
"In my career, a few," Johnson said. "because I am a body therapeutic nurse means I come across this a lot."  
  
"And?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I have," Johnson said. "under different situations."  
  
Johnson took his hand off the man's shoulder as McCoy's personal padd was singing a tune. McCoy's trembling hand brought the padd over to his lap as the man looked back at the vitals on the adjoining wall alongside him that indicated how he was internally. He looked physically fine. He was fine, internally, based off his vitals. McCoy was concerned about himself since he had noticed the period of no twitching. Perhaps he was just recovering so well that he had overcome the twitches. He saw man's left hand twitch as he stepped aside from the doctor.  
  
"Pumpkin!" McCoy's eyes light up. He saw the young woman in her cadet red uniform. Her jacket zipped down making a 'v' stopping in the section between her breasts that were covered by a black regulation shirt. "How is the academy?"  
  
"Excellent, pa," Joanna said. "I didn't realize studying would be this difficult."  
  
McCoy rubbed the side of his head experiencing a random headache with his right, steady hand.

"Xenobiology isn't as easy as it looks on TV," McCoy said.  
  
"Ya make it look easy!"  A hard, sharp pain came from Johnson's leg and he stepped aside rubbing at his calf. He sat down onto a chair checking his leg out. It felt like someone had punched him in the leg with their foot.  
  
"No, I do not," McCoy said.  
  
"Your accomplishment say so," Joanna said.  
  
"Jo," McCoy said. "they were not easy."  
  
Johnson slowly looked in the direction of McCoy's left foot that appeared to be twitching.

"Uh huh," Joanna said.  
  
Johnson came over to the man's side taking out a small tricorder and scanned the man's leg in alarm.  
  
"Made any more friends?" McCoy asked.

"A few," Joanna said. Johnson stood up to his feet reading the small screen to the tricorder, both baffled, and startled. "I was part of a party last night! My first party with people around my age!"  
  
"I am glad ya had fun," McCoy said.  McCoy's left foot kicked Johnson's other leg. "Hey John-"  
  
"Ow!" Johnson yelped, stepping back, covering the middle of his leg.  
  
"Ya okay?" McCoy asked, in concern.    
  
"You kicked my leg!" Johnson said.  
  
"I am not kickin' your leg," McCoy said.  
  
"You are twitch-kicking," Johnson said.  "and it feels more intentional than accidental from you."

"Pa, what is wrong?" Joanna asked.  
  
"Ah, just a mis-understandin'," McCoy said, looking toward the black man with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Look down at your legs," Johnson said.

McCoy  looked down placing the padd to the side on the bed to see his right leg twitching. His eyes slightly widened as there were no words to come.  He didn't know what to say. But irritation, pure and simple, came forward. Why did it take so long? The emotions were replaced by joy. He could start the process of learning to walk again. He could start to begin walking again. He could not feel his legs nor move them. His jaw nearly fell with a gasp when he saw his other foot twitching.  McCoy's eye's looked over in the direction of Johnson while half in shock and half in disbelief. There was a more reasonable explanation. The last neurons of movement coursing through his legs like a phantom limb struggling to become alive again when it can't. And his headache hurt.  
  
He placed the padd onto his lap propping it up by both hands.  
  
"Hey, honey," McCoy started. "do ya have a study group?"  
  
"Pa," Joanna said, wearing the classic family glare in his direction. "I don't need study groups when I have soundtracks playin' in my ears."

"Ya goin' to go deaf before ya turn ninety," McCoy said.

"I like to see that try to happen," Joanna said, as Johnson filled out the small padd with a new addition to his file.  
  
Johnson brought over the  support chair to the side of the bed.

"Hearin' is the most crucail thin' to bein' a doctor," McCoy said. "ya have to listen to the patients."  
  
"Your boyfriend is back," Joanna said. "I suspect he will be coming over in some time."

"He is learnin' to swim today," McCoy mentioned.

"Why are ya not encouragin' him?" Joanna asked.

"It is six thirty-three delta mornin',"  McCoy said.  We are shown a shot of Spock meditating on a mat.  "he is not awake."

"Pa," Joanna said. "Vulcans sleep three hours _a_ _day_."

"He is half human," McCoy said. "and we were out at the water park all day lon'."

A smile teased on her face.

"Spock called me last night. . . and I may have been a tiny incy bit. . . drunk," Joanna sheepishly said.

"Joanna!"  McCoy was horrified.  
  
"Relax, Pa, I think I didn't say anythin' hurtful," Joanna said. The young woman shrugged. "I barely remember what I said."  
  
"Ya were not incy bincy drunk," McCoy said. "ya were full blown drunk. My daughter, drunk, talkin' to a sober, worn out Vulcan!" the doctor shook his head. "I will die by embarrassment. That's it, my  obituary must say 'death by drunken daughter talking to a Vulcan'."  
  
Joanna laughed.

"Ya worried that we had an argument and said thin's we didn't mean to say," Joanna said.

"Do not," McCoy said.

"Ya are my pa," Joanna said. "ya worry about everythin' when it comes to your loved ones."

"Someone has to," McCoy said.

"If anythin'," Joanna said. "we probably shared a friendly discussion about furniture or some illogical shit."

"Sometimes ya worry me," McCoy said.

"Let me do the worryin' for ya this time around," Joanna said. "ya don't have to worry about me."

"All right," McCoy said. "but I have one recommendation."

"Shoot it," Joanna said.

"It is not my kind of thin' but it might be more beneficial to you," McCoy said.  "meditation."

"You?" Joanna repeated, startled. "Suggesting meditation? Over? Sweet Tea?"

"Sweet tea is always good to make some nerves calm," McCoy said. "but not with studyin'."

"Now I really know you are datin' a  Vulcan," Joanna said, with a laugh.  McCoy rubbed the side of his forehead. "are okay?"

"Fine," McCoy said. "it is just a head ache from wakin' up so early, sweetie."

Joanna had a look of concern on her face.

"Joanna!" came a woman's voice.

"We have to go! You always plan live chats at the most absurd timing!"

"Ah shut up, Hallie!" Joanna shouted back, then turned her face toward the screen. "Sorry about that."

"I thought ya changed roommates," McCoy said.

"Hallie. . . uh. . ." Joanna nervously laughed. "that's a long story."

"She sleep walks and ya are the only one who can stop her from leaving the bedroom," McCoy said.

". . . Pa," Joanna started. "stop readin' my diary!"

"It was  a reasonable guess," McCoy shrugged. "Had a slumberparty with a pair of kids like that."

"I love ya," Joanna said. "how about we organize the next live chat on a Friday?"

"Friday's are good," McCoy said. "Seven thirty-three, delta night."

"Sounds good," Joanna said.

"I love ya, pumpkin," McCoy said. "and make sure Hallie doesn't get into another fight."

"I will," Joanna said. "McCoy out."

The screen turned black as tears grew from the corners of the doctor's eyes.

"My daughter is goin' to be a star fleet officer," McCoy looked up toward Johnson.

"Congratulations," Johnson said, helping the man into the wheelchair. "Bones. . . How bad is your headache?"

"Just moderate," McCoy said. "now, if ya excuse me, I have to go attend breakfast with the other people who have similiar problems." The doctor floated away leaving Johnson, concerned, behind.

"A person recovering from brain surgery doesn't get random headaches three weeks later," Johnson said, once the doctor was out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe next chapter I'll have skating?


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there is swearing in this chapter. Just in the beginning.

_"Ma," eight year old McCoy said._

_"We have a question," Donna said._  
  
_Eleanor looked down toward the the twins while stirring the bowl._  
  
_"Yes, children?" Eleanor asked._  
  
_"Where do babies come from?" Donna asked._  
  
_"They come from the uterus just like you two," Eleanor said, turning her attention toward the bowl._  
  
_"How do babies get made?" McCoy asked._  
  
_"Well, when two people love each other very, very, very much  . . ." Eleanor said. "a long, thin hypospray  with special, extra special, powers comes and the stick injected into my stomach."_  
  
_"We were fertilized," Donna said._  
  
_"Maybe and maybe not," Eleanor said, as the twins shared shocked looks with each other. It was surprising how quickly they picked up on it. A part of her wondered if they all ready knew how babies were made. She stirred the slowly stiffening contents in the bowl. "why don't you ask your pa?"_  
  
_"Pa is at the clinic, busy, with the mumps spree," McCoy said._  
  
_"Anti fucking vaxxers," Eleanor said. "killing their children over not wanting them to have autism."_  
  
_"What does fuck mean?" McCoy asked.  Eleanor froze as she stopped stirring the contents of the bowl with the long spoon with widened eyes and a look of sheer realization occupied by horror._  
  
_"A buck," Donna said._  
  
_". . . So that's another word for a buck?" McCoy asked._  
  
_"I heard so from animal planet," Donna said._

 _"I never heard of that word," McCoy said._  
  
_"Well, it's a reasonable name because that's their circle of life," Donna said._  
  
_"So the fuck go to reproduce by. . . I am confused," McCoy said._  
  
_"They are fuckers," Donna said. "that's what they do."_  
  
_"Why did we not learn this in school?" McCoy asked._  
  
_"Because it's a bad word," Eleanor said._

 _"To adults, it is," Donna said._  
  
_"Why don't you two go out exploring or rewatch your favorite Disney movie?" Eleanor asked. "I am sure we have The Lion King first remake."_

_"Let's go rewatch The Lion King!" McCoy bounced._

_"THE LIVE ACTION MOVIE!" Donna squealed, following after her brother._

_Eleanor sighed, in relief, as she relaxed._

_"David is going to kill me," Eleanor said._

* * *

Eleanor made her way into the building with her curly graying hair tidied up in a bun. She was greeted by the security officer at the front desk, an  Andorian, who smiled kindly at the elderly woman with his antennas aimed at her direction. She greeted him back with a warm, "good morning," and made her way forward. Her son had a bad headache the day before so their visit was cut short when he had to be sedated. Doctor House was insisting something was wrong and Johnson was in agreement. They were planning to take him to the hospital the following day.  
  
Spock had been cuddling the man the last time she saw McCoy in his bed, singing to him, softly, in Vulcan.  
  
She could really see how short her little boy was to the six foot Vulcan.  
  
" _What ails you makes you stronger, sweetie," David once said to his heavily pregnant wife._  
  
_"Hun," Eleanor said. "I am not sick."_  
  
_"Ya have the flu," David told her. "and this is FDA approved for the baby and the mother." he injected the hypospray into the woman's exposed neck. "next time the cold season comes. . ." he placed the  empty hypospray into the counter. She sneezed into the kleanex. "ya will be stronger."_  
  
_"Andrew," Eleanor said. "you do so much for me."_  
  
_"I have to repay all ya do for me," David said._  
  
_"It's good for me and my writing," Eleanor said. "it is rich research," as she stroked the side of the man's face looking back at his hazel eyes looking back at him, lovingly, while set in bed. He shared the same look back at the young black woman.  She let go as he placed his head on the side of her bulging stomach. "David--"_  
  
_"I can hear them," David said. "they sound like horses from a wild west in a gun fight."_  
  
_"They are supposed to sound like that," Eleanor said._  
  
_David looked back up toward the woman with a wide smile and eyes lighten up._

_"They are goin' to be cowboys," David said. "in their own rights. I will teach them to ride a horse," he nodded his head, determinedly, at the comment. "Yes, that's what I am goin' to do, and pa is not goin' to stop me this time around."_

_Eleanor sneezed._

_"You know that means I am the one who is going to be taking them to their horse riding lessons?" Eleanor said._

_"And you get to learn how to ride," David said. "win-win!"_

She could see so much of David in the twins. Part of him survived, naturally, in his children. The twins were forces to be reckoned with. Donna, the second one born, was the one who naturally lied to cover up for someone elses mistakes. Her son, Leonard McCoy, was so different from his sister. Donna saved Eleanor's ass too many times when it came to doing a mistake that she could easily have a million federation credits. She could see more of David from her son. Her little Lenny. She saw a lot of her appearance in Donna and David's characteristic in her.

Eleanor made her way to the backyard garden with other patients.  
  
McCoy was in a rocking chair holding a padd with his eyes aimed down in the direction of the screen.  
  
"How is my little Lenny?" Eleanor said.  
  
McCoy smiled, looking back up in her direction.  
  
"I am fine, Ma," McCoy said.  McCoy had his fathers smile, his hair style, his eyebrows, and her eyes. "headache is. . currently. . . not as bad as it was yesterday."  
  
Eleanor sat down along her son in a brown rocking chair.  
   
"How do you really feel, honey?" Eleanor asked, concerned.  
  
"Better," McCoy said. "my leg is twitchin'," she looked down toward his right foot that was twitching. "I felt the floor today, ma," Eleanor grew a widened, proud, joyful smile. "I felt the hard cold floor with my toes."

"I am so proud of you," Eleanor said.  
  
"Perhaps there are miracles still around after all for me," McCoy said.

Eleanor reached forward grabbing her son into a hug.  
  
"You precious smol boy," Eleanor said.  
  
"Ma!" McCoy said, with a laugh. "I am not a short man."  
  
"You always are to me,"  Eleanor said. "and always shall be," she leaned out of the hug. "how is your boyfriend?  
  
"Cruisin' for somewhere to take me today," McCoy said. "Spock told me that he has two days left of shore leave."  
  
"Are you ready for space?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"Space has been callin' me for too lon'," McCoy said. "I am prepared for anythin' space throws at me."  
  
Eleanor raised an eyebrow.  
  
"I thought I was ready for space. . . once upon a time. . . but I may have accidentally started a interplanetary skirmish because of my adventure," Eleanor said, resting her eyebrow down. "you, in star fleet, I know that you are not going to do _that_."  
  
"Since when did you make a interplanetary skirmish?" McCoy asked.  
  
"You and your sister were staying with TJ," Eleanor said. "someone stole my personalized 21st century laptop with all my work on it. . ." she had a fond expression on her face.  The screen panned over to show a younger version of Eleanor chasing after a tall muscular Cardassian on her long legs almost appearing to be sprinting with David behind the two women and panting and sweat dripping down his skin. Eleanor's curled dark hair was bouncing up and down from her slender shoulders. The Cardassian had something flat but square and wide tucked under her arm. "David went along to make sure everything went smoothly."  
  
"I can see it did,"  McCoy said.  
  
"Counting Gangor, Laccievel, and Cardassia  Prime," Eleanor said. "it was relatively minor."  
  
"My ma is a bad ass," McCoy said. "ya never told me that story!"  
  
"It is best you don't," Eleanor said. "it is part of the agreement. . ." McCoy frowned. "but I may have in-directly written about it in one of my novels."

McCoy whistled.

"Ya did that," McCoy said.

"Which is why I am banned from Cardassia Prime," Eleanor said. "not like I am going to visit it anytime soon, anyway." McCoy's jaw dropped while lowering his padd to the lap and his head lowered and shock spread through his face.

"What in the galaxy did ya do?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Don't be surprised, Lenny" Eleanor said.  "I did what was necessary."

"What was so necessary enough to warrant banning?" McCoy asked.

"You would have done it if you were in my position," Eleanor said. "wasn't murder."

"I have to read ya books," McCoy said.

"Of course," Eleanor said. "I cannot legally say but my characters can."

"You little shit," McCoy said.

"Thank you," Eleanor said, with a wide, beaming smile on her face. McCoy laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oH for gods sake, is Spock ever going to go figure skating???????? >.<


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLLY!

Nyota was sitting on a bench sliding on the roller skates. She felt a familiar presence enter the room that was full of other people. She looked up to see a tall, green lanky man sitting down on a bench alongside a wide gap in the bench section where laying in the space sat McCoy in a deliberately 21st century version of the wheelchair. It had wheels to both sides that took the entire space. She tied the shoe laces. Spock was in bright attire consisting of a shirt representing a rainbow with words in Vulcan calligraphy that read 'ma mihrsh' which meant  'have fun' and the backside indicated that read 'hafau hayal heh' which  said 'Remain calm and'.  
  
"It never really shows in Georgia," McCoy said.  
  
"I thought your climate would allow for roller skating on thin ice," Spock said.  
  
"Sorry, that's dangerous and not my kind of thin'," McCoy said. "and we have water reservoirs."  
  
"There is a low percent chance of ice breaking under your weight, doctor," Spock said.  
  
"It would break under you," McCoy shot back.  
  
"It would be logical but it would not break for me as this has heavier ice," Spock said.

"If ya say so," McCoy rolled an eye. He smiled, once he saw the young woman. "fancy seein' ya here, Nyota."  
  
Nyota finished tying her other shoe.  
  
"You too,doctor," Nyota said, then grew a curious expression at the two men. "first time at a skating rink?"  
  
"Yes," Spock said.  
  
"No," McCoy said. "I have been in plenty in my youth," Spock raised a thin, slanted black eyebrow looking toward the white human. "just because Georgia has mild winters does not mean I was left out on roller skatin'."

"Which skating rink did you go to, hinek?" Spock asked.  
  
"Cascade Family Skatin' with my pa and my sister,"  McCoy said. "ya have to meet my twin sometime."  
  
The dark woman shook her head in amusement making her way out of the room.  
  
"I look forward to meeting your twin face to face," Spock said, holding his two fingers out for the human.  
  
McCoy returned the gesture with his two steady, pink fingers.

* * *

Nyota entered the wide, cold skating rink. Janice was with Christine, arms linked together, laughing, with their hips meeting each other. She could see other people appropriately dressed for the occasion in long pants and long sleeves instead of a short sleeved shirt that was part of a tank top and a high riding skirt and long boots. Janice looked over in the direction of Nyota with that look she always gave her. The one where she was staring at the sun like she enjoyed it. The one where she thought the woman was endearing. The one where she was head over heels in love with her. Nyota couldn't decide if the woman was crushing on her or either admiring her. They were so conflicting yet confusing because one look she was crushing and the next it was admiring.

It was flattering for Nyota.

She slid out the door and skated with stride after the two women. There was a decent size crowd made of an assortment of alien species such as the Cabuto with Caucasian skin with red and orange dots along her head ridge lacking any form of hair and black marble like eyes and lacked a nose but similar to Voldemort from the original Harry Potter movies with a smaller hole above their main nostril.  There was a green humanoid species with frog like eyes and  a darker shade of green similar to a tattoo underneath their eyes being a species called Sopien, from the planet Sop, lacking ears or hair. There were Loche and Hondurians among the crowd that had few humans. Nyota's crewmates stuck out like sore thumbs in their bright, colorful attire that looked as though they were in the 1960's. Nyota skated forward darting from side to side after the two women with her eyes full of intent. Janice and Christine were like her beacons of light for the communication's officer. Though her heart ached for more.

For .  . . Her other half.

She just hasn't met her yet. 

At least, physically, apparently.

She was sure her other half was a woman.  
  
Easily had the appearance of a human with dark hair and light brown eyes. Wearing a type of eyeliner that made her face be highlights. A gentle shade of purple.  It sparkled in her dreams when she saw the woman. She didn't pay attention to the ears or the eyebrows. Because it didn't matter to her what species she was, this was, her person. Someone she could easily spend forever with and talk her heart on. Silently cuddle in bed. In these dreams that never ceased to take her breath away. She has been experiencing them for as long as she can remember. Her first memory was playing with the girl in her dreams. It felt so real, emotional, and vivid. It always felt a shame that she couldn't stay longer with the woman. She was a lighter shade of brown from Nyota's perspective. It was very light.

Her arm linked with Janice's arm.

She rather enjoyed the company of her colleagues as she shared a smile.  
  
"No, no, no!" McCoy protested, loudly. "What makes ya think I am goin' to stand straight?"  
  
The voice of McCoy earned a brief head turn to see Spock along the entrance looking down toward the man.  
  
"Woooohooo!" Janice cheered.  
  
"You are Doctor Leonard Horatio McCoy and you are my boyfriend," Spock replied. "obviously, you can do anything with that."  
  
"Ya know that's illogical," McCoy said, with a frown.  
  
"Not according to your katra," It was the closest wording that McCoy would get from Spock along the lines of 'Not according to love'.  McCoy raised an arched eyebrow looking up toward the Vulcan. Nyota's attention turned back onto skating.  
  
"I didn't take ya for a old romantic," McCoy said.    
  
"There is much that you have yet to learn about me," Spock said,then knelt down to the man's level and clipped the parts of the braces along the man's leg with small clicks once his fingers touched the latches one by one. "after all," Spock looked up toward the human. "we are still getting to know each other."  
  
"Most dates take months not days," McCoy said. "of course I don't know you that well!"  
  
"I shall make up for it," Spock said, holding his hand out for the human.

McCoy reached his hand out for the Vulcan and grabbed him by the right shoulder as Spock's hand traveled to the human's back. Spock could feel the man's panic. Spock squeezed the man's hand sending reassurance with their link to comfort the doctor. Spock carefully slid the door open with his foot. McCoy was lifted out of the wheelchair. Nyota came past the two men, her arms not linked with Janice but with Christine, laughing in joy. Janice was skating past them with her hair in a unique hair style that was like a beehive from the 1960's on Earth. McCoy's legs felt weak and wobbly.  McCoy cleared his throat looking down at his trembling legs. His left foot twitched making him crumble down forward. Spock drew the doctor close to his side, steadying him, lifting him up to his feet, with his left hand on the man's waist.  
  
Spock slowly let go of the doctors hand and his right hand went behind his back.  
  
"You can do it, hinek," Spock said, sincerely. "I believe in you."  
  
"I am scared, Spock," McCoy said, looking up toward the science officer feeling vulnerable. McCoy's legs were trembling. Spock was struck by the image of a little fawn running down a snowy hill until it collapsed to the ice coming from the doctor. It was a all too familiar scene from Bambi. McCoy's grip tightened on the Vulcan's shoulder. "help me not be."  
  
"I am by supporting your weight and position," Spock said. "as your species likes to sing off the top of their lungs: let it go."  
  
"Let what go?" McCoy asked, his eyebrows raised as his grip on the Vulcan loosened.  
  
"Fear, doctor, fear," Spock said. McCoy's eyebrows settled.

"I am still in disbelief that Frozen survived thanks to internet pirates," McCoy said.

"Do not be," Spock said. "humans are stubborn on rescuing when it comes to something they cherish dearly."

"And you call yourself a Vulcan," the doctor said, in amusement.

Nyota could see the two men side by side.

A small smile grew on the woman's face seeing the couple working together.

She looked forward to watching them being cute together on the Enterprise, off duty, and exploring each other as people. It was a sensible, yet, reasonable thought. Seeing Spock helping the doctor made Nyota feel like a useless puddle of emotions and feels.  The way Spock was being tender and loving toward him. No matter what he had said in their previous mission regarding his emotions that was not true as she could see. He showed attraction to men and women on that same away mission. But that was only to retrieve the captain and the colonists from a failed federation colony that had been captured by the planets natives. M'Benga was back on the Enterprise at that time.

McCoy's right leg twitched nearly giving out beneath him.

Spock lifted the human up to his feet each. 

Spock did it again, and again.

It didn't seem to bother the Vulcan at all.

It was touching to see a Vulcan making sure a human got used to doing a every day activity. Spock looked down toward the human with a fond, but warm expression in his eyes while listening to his boyfriends complaints. Nyota witnessed him fighting back laughter as the human swore while nearly tripping over his feet. Nyota laughed, skating through the crowd of aliens breaking off with Christine. She saw McCoy leaned against the supportive walls  and using the flat edge that stood out. It made her feel warmth inside that warmed her heart. She skated past Christine. Christine grinned, then swiftly touched Nyota on the small of her back. Nyota gasped, feeling the light touch yet pleasing touch of the woman.

"Tag, you are it!" Christine said.

"Think, again, Christine!" Nyota darted after the woman.

"Nah nah, you can't catch me!" Christine said, skating onwards.

"I have you know I am a excellent skater," Nyota said.

"Bite me!" Christine replied.

"I would gladly do that when we are alone together," Janice said, with a flirtatious wink at the taller woman skating past her.

"Tag!" Nyota said, shoving Janice forward with a laugh. "You are it,  Janice!"  
  
"I will get you for that!" Janice called.  
  
"I like to see you try, sugah!" Nyota said, warmly. Skating and having fun took Nyota's attention away from how cold it was in the scenery.  
  
Nyota skated alongside Christine on her long, wide gorgeous legs making great strides. She skated forward and forward until passing by other skaters varying in shape and size. Most of whom were women where a few were men, visibly, by sight. Nyota wore a smile that could kill on her face. She looked over toward the short hair blonde woman in the bright blue long sleeved shirt that had a turtle neck. They bumped shoulders together, warmly, and playfully. Her surroundings were starting to become a blurr as the only focus for her became the two women that she had befriended. She skated forward once more feeling the heat radiating from her skin. Nyota was shoved forward by a pair of long fingers into her back away from the nurse.  
  
"Tag, you are it!" Janice said. 

"Can't catch us!" Nyota said.  
  
"I'll say otherwise," Christine said.  
  
Nyota looked over to see Spock skating backwards watching the human trying to get a grip on standing on both feet. He glared back at the Vulcan with a scowl as his legs twitched. His eyes, however, read something entirely different. Fondness. Spock skated past the human staying out of the outer ring of the large group of people going in a smaller circular shape in the skating rink. Spock's arms were locked behind his back in military style. McCoy slid himself forward nearly falling down. McCoy forced himself up, once again, to his feet grumbling to himself. He wasn't going to let this disability keep him down. Nope. No sirrey, he was going to give it all he had and fight to walk if need be. He was going to get better!

For the sake of his close family and his boyfriend.  
  
His headache was lighter.  
  
Probably because he was taking painkillers for it.

McCoy was told that it is probably his brain having a hard time with the recovery.  
  
McCoy saw David behind the mirror like wall. McCoy stopped in his tracks right in place feeling the blood drain from his head, He almost fell to the color of a bed sheet and his heart stopping moment for a moment seeing a dead man standing. David looked healthy and alive. Not as thin, sick, and frail that McCoy had seen him months ago. He looked so real, so alive, watching his son, and happy. His father standing up and right.  McCoy shook his head and the man was gone. Something wasn't right in his brain. Or, the most illogical answer would be, is that he could see ghosts. Which was absurd. McCoy regained his composure as his heart was beating once more as his skin turned to normal color.

McCoy needed a brain scan.

"Hinek," Spock skated close to the doctor's side. His eyes full of concern while his face showed no emotion. "I sensed your distress."

"I am fine, Spock," McCoy said.

Spock glared at the doctor.  
  
"It appears they missed something small in the operation," Spock said.  
  
"They didn't miss anythin'," McCoy said. "I am sure of that. Look!" McCoy gestured toward his still legs. "I am doin' good so far."  
  
"Indeed," Spock said. "but this may be detrimental to your recovery."  
  
"All right,  Spock," McCoy said. "I realized I forgot somethin' very  important."  
  
"What was that?" Spock inquired, tilting his head.  
  
"We haven't crossed the anal sex base," McCoy said, earning a eyebrow raise from the Vulcan.  
  
"Forget I asked," Spock said.  
  
"I am quite aware that ya asexual," McCoy shook his hand. "sometimes, when I am distressed, it's for forgettin' somethin' unimportant and doesn't need ya to be concerned," the doctor used the wall as his support to go forward.  "Besides, I am suppose to be the concerned party!" He shook his index finger back and forth. "Not ya."  
  
"What did you really remember?" Spock asked.  
  
"That  I hadn't gotten ya a gift for comin' to my ma's rescue," McCoy lied. He did plan to give the Vulcan something special for coming to his mother's aid.  "she has a heavy purse that can leave a black eye but to a Klingon. . . well. . . it's just no big deal to them."

"It must not be a sequel novel about Beethoven the  Sehlat," Spock said. "otherwise, I am neutral to what you get me."  
  
"All right, sweetie," McCoy said, with a lingering smile at the green skinned man.  
  
"But if you do get it," Spock began. "I will have no choice in return but to get you an item that will get on your nerves."  
  
The Vulcan skated away.  
  
"Do all Vulcans ask for gifts this way?" McCoy asked himself.  
  
McCoy stood there, baffled at first, but then his expression warmed looking after the Vulcan.

 _Because of course they do_ , McCoy rationalized.

Spock's tall, gorgeous figure went smoothly against the environment. He was like a well curved, green wide pen  with arms and legs that looked smooth. McCoy found himself feeling aroused seeing the Vulcan swaying from side to side. A part of McCoy wondered if the Vulcan ever attempted ballet. McCoy slid himself forward away from the wall on his braces balancing himself out with his arms reached out to both sides. McCoy earned strange looks from the Gangorian  and Loches to name a few while the other skaters ignored him.  He couldn't necessarily move his legs forward but standing was a major challenge. He reached his hand out as he went slower and slower. His hand miraculously grabbed the Vulcan's shoulder not too hard nor did he squeeze it. It was a light grip on the Vulcan. 

Spock looked over toward the human whose legs were leaning forward and the doctor was going down and down.

"Uh huh," McCoy said, in a not entirely convinced tone. Spock's hand wrapped around the man's waist lifting him up to his feet. "and I don't like havin' chocolate before hittin' the hay."

When Nyota passed them again, Spock and McCoy were sharing a Vulcan french kiss.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FINALLLLLLLYLYYYYYYY!!!!!! Enough said.

_"David, I said  no," TJ said, over a cool cup of sweet tea in the passenger seat alongside his son._

_"Come on, it'll be fun," David said._

_"Yeah, grandpa!"  McCoy piped up._

_"Ma said it will be fun for you!" Donna agreed._

_"No, now that's just too dangerous," TJ said._

_"Says the man who went hiking to the highest mountain on Gangor,"  David said._

_"Ridin' a bull, I am sorry but that is life threatenin' at my age,"  TJ said._

_"Pllleeaaseee," David said. "ya haven't had fun since ma died."_

_"I have experienced fun, no thank you," TJ said._

_"Kids," David said. "if one of us go before the other and it takes a lon' time for us to go, me or your ma, make sure one of us has fun."_

_"Yes, pa!" the twins said._

_"I have fun very single day," TJ said, glaring back at David. "And--DAVID, DO YOU WANT TO DITCH US INTO THE LAKE? TURN AROUND."_

_"Ooopsy daisy," David said, absentmindly, veering the vehicle right at the edge. He looked over toward his father. TJ's face was slowly turning a heated red. He took a sip of the sweet tea as the children in the back were watching their favorite cartoon featuring Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck. "you are starved of fun."_

_"Out," TJ said._

_"Why?" David asked, startled._

_"You are too focused on makin' sure that I am 'fun' healthy," TJ said. "and your definition of fun is different from me."_

_"Hey!" David said. "Ya had fun doin' this to me."_

_"That was when ya didn't have children in the freakin' back seat!" TJ said. "I prefer my kind of fun without the kids."_

_"Unless you go bull racin'," David said._

_"No!" TJ said._

_"It's a animatronic!" David said._

_"No!" TJ said._

_"Pa," David started._

_"No!" TJ said._

_"Pleaaaaase," David said. "I hate you to be .  . . so down and sad."_

_"No!" TJ protested._

_"Then where do we go if you don't want me to drive?" David asked._

_David paused, looking over, carefully, toward his son._

_"I know a hundred places that are family friendly," TJ finally said._

_"But that's not the question," David said._

_"Well, what is it, son?" TJ asked._

_"Are they emotionally friendly for you?" David revealed._

_David and TJ unbuckled themselves then got out of the car while the children watched their cartoon. David had his tea cup left on the arm rest to the driver seat in a cup holder. They couldn't be more four years old. They didn't hear the arguing from outside between father and son regarding the definition of fun and safety protocols when it came to children being in the same proximity. David's arguments were squashed easily by his father. The cartoon ended then came Tom and Jerry the classic cartoons on the screen. The two men came to both sides of the vehicle in different spots than they had been earlier. TJ buckled himself up wearing a frown on his face. David folded his arms. The doors had loudly slammed to a close._

_"If I had a federation credit for every stupid shit ya did then I would be a millionaire," TJ said._

_David sighed._

_"I swear," David said. "if they learn not to have fun after losin' someone very close to them, it's on your shoulders."_

_"Not really," TJ said. "it's on your shoulders. Ya the father who helps them navigate life."_

_David shook his head._

_"Ya are going to regret goin' somewhere ya don't even like," David said._

_"Meh," TJ said, picking up his sweet tea. "watch me. I won't even care."_

* * *

McCoy had a laugh at the novel laid in his lap. His vision was back to normal. Moving his hands was easier than it had been in the beginning of his recovery. His legs were slowly regaining the ability to walk. One step at a time. The nurses were thrilled as was Johnson who was plotting a party on the day the man was discharged. He didn't say that he was, but McCoy at least suspect that from the man. Johnson and Janeway were placing bets when he could be walking. As were the other staff that he was not aware of. It was Doctor House who had started the betting pool regarding McCoy because of Spock's presence.

"Hey Bones," Janeway said, from the patio leaning against the door.

McCoy turned his head from the Beethoven the Shelat novel.

"Yes?" McCoy said. _Shit, I just answered to a nickname_.

"You have a visitor," Janeway said, stepping aside.

A black short woman stepped forward with hazel eyes from the doorway of the entrance to the backyard. She had a bag strapped to her shoulder. She had a fair resemblance to Eleanor and David but identical to her brother. She had hair bangs that curled to the side just the way that her brothers would, she had bags under her eyes, and for a woman in her forties she looked excellent. She had her hands clasped together. McCoy's eyes became full of recognition to see the woman as a smile grew on his face.

"Donna!" McCoy said, putting the novel onto the counter alongside him.

"Lenny!" Donna said, speed waking his direction.

McCoy lift himself up to his feet catching his sister into a warm, emotional hug. He had his hands on her back and his head on her shoulder. Donna held him firmly in place from tipping over to the grass with her small hand on his hips. She had a tight grip on her twin who was right about her height. Fuller was carefully using a padd with his long dark claws across from them sitting alongside a Hondurian female who he was well acquainted and had the name of a man rather than a female name. Our view panned over to the twins.

"Ya look well!" McCoy said, as he broke the hug with his hands on her shoulder.

"Ya look better than ya were three weeks ago," Donna said. "now, that is the improvement I have been talkin' about."

"How is Freddy?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Fred is fine," Donna said. "can you walk?"  
  
"Not exactly," McCoy said. "Ya came  here in the nick of time. Today is Spock's last day on shore leave."  
  
"He is here?" Donna asked.  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. "but not quite. . ." She stepped aside as he looked down toward a bag along the rocking chair. McCoy leaned down and picked up a small bag. "Ma took me shoppin'."  
  
"Tell me that Ma does not live around here," Donna said.  
  
"More like lingers here," McCoy said, twirling his index finger. "she is usin' it as inspiration for her next novel."  
  
Donna's jaw went slack and her eyes widened.  
  
"She is writin' a new novel," Donna said, then she covered her mouth. "oh dear."

Donna's expression was a all too familiar one that McCoy understood.

It brought up memories.

Memories of their mother going out for the sake of research and leaving her children to stay behind with her sister in Georgia came back for days at a time. The memories of other teenagers asking if her mother really wrote a odd, unique mystery thriller novel with a hint of supernatural in it. How their mother would tell them vividly detailed stories when it came to bedtime stories instead of audio books. How her mother went nuts when she hit a plot hole. It drove their father crazy when that would become the only thing she would talk about. Not at all the likable situations but they made sure to adapt with it. How their mother would be cooking and simultaneously working on her next book speaking to herself on what should be written in terms of dialogue, action, and description. She edited it vocally and mentally until she got to her special computer.  
  
"Relax," McCoy said. "I think she is writin' a romance novel."  
  
Donna had a louder gasp.  
  
"Oh my god,  Lenny," Donna said. "she hasn't been in romance for years."  
  
"Just because she is rusty at it doesn't mean that she can give it another shot," McCoy said. "datin' always helps brushen up on romance."  
  
"But you are different," Donna said, as McCoy's right foot twitched. "you had not dated in . . seventeen? sixteen? Twenty years?" she shook her head. "Ma has not dated in over forty years."  
  
"I thought Ma was datin'  a Loche," McCoy said.  
  
Donna laughed.  
  
"No, Lenny," Donna said, as her hand traveled to his back as they slowly walked around the backyard. McCoy was sort of walking in a way with a wheel under the back of his shoe that was a form of getting adjusted back to walking. Theoretically, his leg would start moving forward after his brain was being given the illusion that he was walking when in reality the doctor was sliding on the grass. "that was a old colleague of hers."

"Ma has been alone all this time?" McCoy asked, feeling his heart breaking.  
  
"Yes," Donna said, with a nod.  
  
McCoy turned his head away looking over toward the flowers.

"I did not realize she was that lonely," McCoy said, sliding right over to the flowers.

The flowers were a assortment of safe, domestic species that were aesthetically pleasing and feeling wise pleasing for the patients. The flowers had long stems, large leaves below the flowers, and some of the plants had small normal sized leaves. There was a tall Lacciev, in janitor attire, finishing their duties for the day tending to a large gorgeous flower with several petals but mainly overgrown leaves. The Lacciev used their long, smooth claws to clip the unnecessary branches away with a soft snap while tearing away the leaves. The Lacciev was like a humanoid ant with a pair of eyes that had 'x' marks as the iris. The janitor put the tree branch into the large trash can alongside them.  
  
"Hey," Donna said, following after her brother. "ma goes to those elderly centers. She is not exactly lonely."  
  
"I mean she doesn't have anyone to talk with or follow her," McCoy's baby blue eyes looked over toward Donna with his fingers around the stem  of a thornless flower. "she doesn't have a pet."  
   
"Remember when we had a dog?" Donna asked.  
  
"Yeah," McCoy said, fondly. "shame Rowdlyn had to go off to a tree and die."  
  
"She hated it," Donna said.  
  
"It won't be a Saint Bernard," McCoy said. He looked over toward his twin. "besides, the last one she got. . ." he paused. "it was pa who bought it not us, and no, the tortoise does not count, Donna."  
  
"The tortoise lasted for over thirty-three years," Donna said. "and very dog like."  
  
"That tortoise and ma did not get alon' well," McCoy said.  
  
"Ma would never admit but she loved it," Donna said. "despite complainin' about it."

"Now why does that sound familiar?" McCoy asked, raising an eyebrow, in  a joking manner. "We should get her a new pet."  
  
"Like a old one?" Donna said.  
  
"Yes, an old dog that can keep up with her," McCoy said, leaning away from the flower with one hand behind his back in a familiar but habitual position.

"That would be the best move," Donna said.    
  
"Let's go to the nearest shelter," McCoy said.  
  
"Shouldn't we wait for your boyfriend first?" Donna asked.  
  
"He will be there before me, I promise ya that," McCoy said, steering his way from the flowers. "Spock has this weird thin' to find me  without really knowin' where I went," the doctor waved his hand as she turned in his direction. "It is like he is psychic or somethin'."

McCoy slid his way toward the door.  
  
"Brother, you need a wheelchair!" Donna called, going after her brother.  "You can't skate your way through a crowded street the way you are doing it!"

"Watch me!" McCoy lifted himself up off the ground using the two rails along the entrance of the yard  missing the flight of stairs and landed smoothly onto his feet where he continued to slide forward. "OH SHIT, I MAY HAVE MISCALCULATED THE VELOCITY!" as he vanished inside the building.  
  
Donna gasped, covering her mouth then speeded after her brother.  
  
"WHEELCHAIR!" Donna called running after her brother.

* * *

Spock entered the shelter as the door chimed behind him. He heard the sounds of mews and whines coming from the various domestic animals laid about the room. There were many people dotting the scenery ranging in age and species. Spock sensed the doctor was in the back of the long, wide square room. He heard the whines of dogs varying in age. He saw kittens among the long  non ending electrical field curled up resting with toys on their side of the field. He passed by several Hondurians who were  holding little pugs above their faces saying words he was not familiar with. His ears picked up the sound of his boyfriend's voice and a woman's voice sounding similar. He passed by several individuals.  
  
"Perhaps we should get the silver snouted German Shepard," Donna offered.  
  
"I am not sure about that," McCoy said. "do ya know how much their dog food weighs?"  
  
"Ma is a strong woman," Donna said.

"It might throw her back out," McCoy said, holding his two fingers out.

"Anything could throw her back out including gardenin'," Donna said, as Spock came to the doctors side and returned the gesture. "she can always use the dolly," Her eyes landed on the large blue nose pit bull that seemed to be resting in the corner of the room perfectly content. A smile grew on the woman's face."look at that old pit bull. Don't they look cute?"

"There are various types of pit bulls here," Spock said.

"This is my sister, Donna Withers," McCoy said. "and this is my boyfriend. . "

"S'Chn T'Gai Spock," Spock said, performing the ta'al. Donna raised her eyebrows then looked over at the direction of her brother.

"Why do ya always pick the high profiled people?" Donna asked.

"I just attract them, sis," McCoy shrugged. "How am I suppose to know when I don't intend?"

Donna smiled looking over toward the Vulcan.

"Ya gave my ma a new friend," Donna said. "thank ya very much for savin' her life."

"It was a Tuesday," Spock said.

"And here is ya gift," McCoy slid the straps to the bag onto Spock's hand right onto his wrist. "gifts, I mean."  with a wink.  
  
Spock looked down into the contents of the bag dipping his head halfway in to see what was inside it parting both sides using his hands outwards.  
  
"Or maybe we should get her a chow," Donna said, gesturing toward a large resting chow.  
  
Spock's cheeks were glowing a shade of green as the twins leaned forward toward the row of dogs.  
  
"It looks like a lion," McCoy said.  
  
"They are extremely loyal to their owners," Donna said.

"I don't know about that. . ." McCoy looked at the silver snouted chow. "what if the little thin' doesn't like her?"  
  
"Ma gets alon' with every animal she meets," Donna said. "the tortoise counts."  
  
"Ya are right about that. . ." McCoy agreed.  
  
"And it would make a excellent protector in the event she ever gets attacked again," Donna said.  
  
"That would be a logical form of defense," Spock said.  
  
"Indeed," Donna nodded.  
  
McCoy looked over toward the blue nosed pit bull then over to the more energetic, younger dogs play fighting with each other. Huskys were among them, Great Danes, Dachshund,Boxers, Akita,Greyhound, and so on. McCoy saw a pair of grown cats cuddling with each other in a small box. He saw the different breeds of cats and dogs co-existing together. Spock lowered the bag to his side then wrapped his two fingers around the doctor's two fingers allowing emotions to come through and heavily passionate feelings that the doctor was making him feel. The Vulcan French Kiss felt very pleasure inducing, heavier actually, than the standard Vulcan Kiss. McCoy's fingers tightened around the Vulcan's fingers sending back caring, deep affection that he shared. It was actually the equivalent of returning the favor by moving his tongue around inside the Vulcan's mouth and rubbing along it. McCoy looked over toward the stoic Vulcan experiencing warm, bubbly feelings toward the Vulcan. McCoy felt like he could fly into the sky. McCoy assumed that Spock he was mathematically organizing his emotions taking a step back disassociating himself from them. The second one was the more Vulcan approach and realistic one.

"I am not sure which one to get her," McCoy noted.

"The breeds present here are all loyal, aging dogs that can be vicious when their owners are threatened," Donna said. "and their dog food can be very heavy, naturally," she looked over toward her brother who was shoulder to shoulder, almost hip to hip, with the Vulcan. "she lifted our tortoise so if she can do that  then she can lift a bag of dog food."  
  
"Yeah, but. . . the best question is which one," McCoy said.  
  
The twins looked over toward the array of dogs as McCoy and Spock's fingers let go.  
  
"They all look so cute," Donna started.  
  
"And sweet," McCoy added.  
  
"Old," Donna continued.  
  
"Adorable," McCoy said.  
  
"Hug needy," Donna added.   
  
"Large fuzzballs," McCoy added.  
  
"Of undeniable love," Donna slid her finger along the ear of a old beagle and rubbed along it.

"What about a beagle?" McCoy said.  
  
"That, now, brother, is a tricky question," Donna said. "remember how her old beagle died when we were seven?"  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. A memory flashed in his mind regarding Eleanor who didn't write anything for a week. "she was broken up about it."  
  
"And this would be a painful reminder of what she lost," Donna said.  
  
"What about a chihuahua?" McCoy said.  
  
"Chihuahua's don't get alon' with ma like most dogs," Donna said.  
  
McCoy winced.  
  
"I remember," McCoy said.  
  
The twins turned  their heads in the direction of Spock as the beagle leaned into her hand enjoying the rub.  
  
"Can you help us?" Donna asked.  
  
"Of course," Spock said, his eyes looking over toward the sea of dogs. He gestured over toward the yellow yet orange like ball of fur with grayed hair here and there with their head laid on their paws. "the resting chow."  
  
"Why the chow?" Donna and McCoy asked at once, startled.  
  
"Given Ellie's nature it does not come to any surprise that a large dog would intimate those who intend to bother her," Spock said. "and this dog is likely to have been house broken by their previous owner," their eyes turned toward the chow. "They will like Ellie."

"The chow wins," Donna said, with a smile looking back toward her twin. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY DONNA MADE A APPEARANCE.


	34. Chapter 34

Eleanor's door opened to reveal Spock standing alongside a elderly, panting chow with a tongue sticking out from the side. Eleanor looked over to see the faint shape of two figures vanishing at the corner of the hallway. She had seen the shape of a wheelchair darting away. She didn't have to need eagle vision to know who the two figures belonged to. Normally, when she saw speeding figures they usually belonged to her two children leaving gifts for her. She turned her attention to the 'eventual-son-in-law' who had his left hand locked behind his back and one hand on the leash. She let out a soft smile at the Vulcan.

"Mr Spauwk," Eleanor said.

"This pet is for you," Spock said, holding the leash out. "your children believed you needed company."

"How considerate," Eleanor said, taking the leash from the human. She lowered herself down to the chow. "Whose so cute?" She ruffled along the chow's furr  earning a lick  to the side of her face with a laugh from the old woman. "Yes, you are!" She raised herself back up taking out a piece of tissue to wipe the wet moisture off the side of her face. "tell my children that I love it."

Spock bowed his head.

"I will," Spock said. "I need a suggestion.

 "What kind?" Eleanor asked.

"What kind of movies does Leonard normally enjoying watching?" Spock asked.

A pleased, wide smile grew on Eleanor's face. 

"He is my little Lenny, after all," Eleanor said. "knowing him, his viewing habits has not changed. . ."

* * *

"Spock, that was a excellent movie!" McCoy said, wheeling his way between Donna and Spock out of the movie theater.

"That was better than excellent," Donna agreed, with a nod of her head.h

"Aesthetically pleasing," Spock said. "However there were two plot holes."

"It is a comedy," Donna said. "doesn't need to fill in the plot holes."

"Not like a mystery where the plot holes need to be solved," McCoy agreed. "my favorite part was where the Andorian tore her car through a tank of cow milk and got the Enos pair's vehicle engulfed by it just to finish the race."

"That was classic," Donna said, then finished off the drink.  She came around to the man's side and tossed the cup into the garbage dispensary. "I will see ya later, brother."

"When I can walk," McCoy said, shaking her hand. "arm wrestle next time?"

"Arm wrestling next time," Donna said, then she looked toward the Vulcan. She held her hand out performing the ta'al. "live long and prosper."

"Peace and long life," Spock replied, returning the gesture.

Donna smiled, kindly, back at the Vulcan. Then, she walked away down the street leaving the two men behind. Spock lowered his hand to his backside. She vanished within a growing crowd of people on the sidewalk along the small square lake. McCoy looked at the Vulcan, admiring him, feeling touched by the Vulcan's obvious gesture of having their last date night be wonderful. The memory of leaning into Spock's shoulder watching the on-screen couple lying in the car while the Andorian Officer passed them while smoking vapes was still imprinted on the man's mind. Spock did not seem to laugh or cry at the movie but the link indicated that it amused to him. After all, Vulcan's were very caring and emotional creatures like humans. But less social than humans even at appearance that they did not care. Spock reminded McCoy of a cat.

"That was sweet of you," McCoy said. "ya asked my ma."

"I believed it was appropriate for a date like this," Spock said, his hands locked behind his back. "which was correct given the reactions."

"She never forgets movies that I enjoyed when in her company," McCoy said, fondly. "perhaps we could continue this date at the holographic zoo?"

"If you have the stomach for it," Spock said.

"I have the stomach for a genderfluid lion restin' on the grass thinkin' its real," McCoy said.

"Then I believe we are set to go," Spock said.

"Sweetie. . ." McCoy said. "I need ya to push my wheelchair."

Spock tilted his head, taking in the reply, as the man had been graduating in terms of walking and dependency on support chairs. McCoy had been pushed earlier by his sister. His previous wheelchair was able to be moved by other options on the chair that he could easily manipulate. Allowing Spock to push the wheelchair was a huge, monumental step in their relationship together. McCoy could always slide the wheels down as a manual way of moving himself. Logically, it meant that McCoy could rely on Spock when he was vulnerable. A level that the doctor could lean on him when he landed on tough times. A level that Spock was finding himself pleased. The Vulcan straightened his head once analyzing the importance of the question. Spock bowed his head, fluttering his eyes in a way that Jim Kirk did when flattered or experiencing a emotion that he was just now grasping.

Gratitude?

Was that the emotion?

Honor?

Honored, Spock felt honored.

"As you wish," Spock said, coming behind the human placing his hands onto the handles. "T'hy'la."

Spock was truly blessed as he felt like he was flying. 

"We should see the zorse first," McCoy said. "ever seen that before?"

Now he understood McCoy's comparison from the beginning of their relationship.

"No," Spock said. "but it is a first."

"Or a liger?" McCoy asked.

"I have not," Spock said.

"Same here," McCoy said. Spock could feel utter, pure joy radiating from the human. "first time for both of us!"


	35. Chapter 35

"Mr Spock!" Jim greeted the Vulcan who was standing alongside his boyfriend but leaned forward with his head barely visible behind the head rest and a pair of long hairy arms extending from the chair on the Vulcan. One arm was wrapped on his shoulder and the other arm had a hand on the man's waist. "Doctor," he smiled at the two men who turned their attention toward him. Spock leaned away with a green blush on his cheeks wearing a stoic mask. Spock was in his science blues with his hands locked behind his back like Jim was. "Nice to see you again. Enjoyed shore leave together, I presume?"

"Indeed," Spock said.

"Next shore leave will be better," McCoy said. 

"Doctor, you cannot predict the future." Spock said.

"I can predict if off my recovery," McCoy said, dancing his eyebrows. Spock looked over toward the captain like he was caught.

"I am happy to hear your recovery is going smoothly," Jim said. "tell me when I should refer to my first officer as Lieutenant Commander McCoy." the man went past the boyfriends.

"Doctor McCoy and Lieutenant Commander McCoy," McCoy said. "ya know we share the same rank."

"I am quite aware," Spock said.

"Tell me, sweetie," McCoy said. "will ya get used to it whenever that does happen?" the doctor raised an arched eyebrow. "Captain McCoy, Admiral McCoy, Ambassador McCoy, Commodore McCoy. . ." "

"I have no interest in commanding a starship," Spock said.

"Really?" McCoy asked.

"It would require the loss of Mr Scott, Mr Sulu, Doctor M'Benga, and the captain for me to take command," Spock said.

"You are exaggeratin'," McCoy said.

"Of course, I am," Spock said. "but it would take the loss of the captain for me to take command." Spock reached his two fingers out. McCoy's fingers touched Spock's sending heavy, deep affection toward the man completing the ozh'esta with a warmed smile of his own.

"Then ya better make sure he is still alive and so are ya," McCoy replied.

"I will endeavor to do so," Spock said.

"I know you will," McCoy said. "came a lon' way from where we were months ago. . . well, actually, not a long' way but we have gotten far from where we were months ago. Me, on the biobed, ya sittin' by my side. . . ."

"You are a kind of cinnamon roll that looks like it can kill and kill when threatened, hinek," Spock said. 

"Not even a romantic phrase," McCoy said.

"Do not mistaken for the analogy as disregard but it is a very fond regard," Spock said, his hands linking behind his back, "in your culture, as I have seen, it is fortunet for one to appear intimidating and threatening to other species that may pose harm and sway them away."

"Do I?" McCoy asked. 

"When you are angry,"  Spock said.

"Well, then I am screwed because I am  not angry all the time," McCoy said.

"You will be surprised to find out that could change as chief medical officer on the Enterprise," Spock said.

"I am not sure about that. . . " McCoy said. "I might not have the ability to run like I used to and that could be a career ender."

"Doctor, if everyone did that then we would have no physicians to take care of the wounded," Spock said. "doctors have learned to adapt with their disabilities and have medicine on their side to treat them. With your improving recovery,  you won't need medicine or your career to be over because you cannot run. Doctors do need to be on their feet and I realize that is your argument."

"For the sake of argument, how fast do you run?" McCoy asked.

"There is no known comparison to date," Spock said.

"So average," McCoy said "ya can out run me, . . Spock, promise me, that ya won't linger around to make me feel better when runnin' from somethin'."

Spock nodded his head.

"As you wish," Spock said, then he planted a kiss on McCoy's forehead.

"Ya sweetheart," McCoy said, as the Vulcan leaned back, McCoy caught the side of the man's face. "Take care of ya'self. Will ya?"

"I will," Spock said.

"Good, because I need my boyfriend in tip top shape when I get back and to be professional on duty with me," McCoy said, letting go of the side of Spock's face.

"Being unprofessional on duty is illogical," Spock said.

"I agree," McCoy said. "at least there is a standard for that we can be abiding by."

"Indeed," Spock said.

"I will be thinkin' of ya," McCoy said.

"I as well," Spock said.

"So about the part regardin' the other engagement before Jim came in. . ." McCoy said. "we gonna take care of that?"

"As  I had been saying before you brought into the kiss, I will have it arranged and dissolved before the year is over," Spock said. 

"Ah, so that is what ya were goin' to say," McCoy said. "ya sounded hot."

"If I were you," Spock said. "I would have done the same."

"Now if that is not the truth," McCoy snickered. McCoy admired his boyfriend with one hand placed on the Vulcan's wrist sending  warmth toward the science officer. The kind of warmth that Spock was making him feel. McCoy felt young again around him and it broke his heart that he had to see him go. But the thought that he would join him eventually eased the heart break. "Ya better go."

"Before I do," Spock said. "it is customary to give someone a Vulcan intends to mate with. . . "  Spock took out a silver necklace with a circular turquoise like rock in the center surrounded by a band of gold.  At the back side it looked like a madallion. Spock placed the light weight but somewhat dense object into the man's hand. "a gift."  
  
"What is this?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Vokaya," Spock said. "my mother gave it to me before I departed for Star Fleet. It is a family heirloom."  
  
McCoy put on the necklace.  
  
"I  like it," McCoy said, the necklace ending up backwards. It was a large item about the size of his fist. "I could wear this to a disco party," the man's baby blue eyes looked up toward Spock's light brown ones. "But. . . thank ya."  
  
"You are welcome," Spock said.  
  
"I love you," McCoy said.  
  
"I love you, too," Spock said.

"Go," McCoy said. "before I drag ya ass onto my lap and start kissin' ya like a madman!"  
  
"I would not mind," Spock said.  
  
"Being ravished by a recoverin' man," McCoy said. "nope, no sorry, let me ravish you in my lap in private!"  
  
"It would make you feel better," Spock said. "and I as well."  
  
"Spock, it's  not logical to do this when ya ship is leavin'," McCoy said. "and I would never stop kissin' that face of yours."  
  
"I live to be lectured by you regarding your train of logic," Spock said. "it is. . . fascinating. . . in a way."  
  
McCoy's face turned a heated red.  
  
"Tell me, what is your logic, Mr Spock?" McCoy asked. "me or cold, hard logic that helps ya out?"  
  
"I choose not to answer,"  Spock said.  
  
"Answer that question when I have completely recovered," McCoy said. "ya will be waitin' for me."  
  
"Until the end of time," Spock said.  
  
"Ya not a machine so don't be cheesey like that," McCoy said.  
  
"Vulcans can live beyond two hundred," Spock said. "and our katra's can last forever if put in the right receptacle."  
  
"Now I can see why ya so cheesey," McCoy said. "and why I love it comin' from ya so much."  
  
"Will you wait for me?" Spock asked.  
  
"Till hell freezes over," McCoy said, earning a raised eyebrow. "any day, any day, I'll wait for ya."  
  
There was a flicker of comfort in the Vulcan's eyes.  
  
"Dif-tor heh smusma," Spock said.  
  
"Sochya eh dif," McCoy said, in clear and well pronounced Vulcan.  
  
Spock walked in the direction of the long, lengthy glass like hall that was being filled.  
  
McCoy had a dreamily sigh.  
  
"That's my hot damn boyfriend," McCoy said, with one hand cupping the side of his face and  his eyes watching the Vulcan's figure vanishing among the color of red, yellow, and blue uniforms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you have noticed, I have been making Spock say 'as you wish' a lot. Fan theory is that whenever Spock says 'as you wish', he is actually saying 'I love you' so. . . . Princess Bride, anyone, get the reference? Trying to not make it the only thing he says around the doctor.
> 
> Sochya eh dif= peace and long life
> 
> dif-tor heh smusma= live long and prosper.


	36. Chapter 36

The drugs were wearing off. His head was throbbing. He winced, in pain, but that wouldn't ruin his evening. The surgery had been scheduled for Friday to remove the tumor. McCoy still hadn't been given a sample of his cancer from the USS Bunker Hill hospital ship. When was he going to see what probably started his relationship at first with Spock? McCoy didn't feel well. The pain was worse than he had expected. Damn, couldn't believe that he forgot to take his pill today.  
  
"How are you, McCoy?" Fuller asked.  
  
McCoy looked over, tiredly, toward the man.  
  
"Worse," McCoy said. "but I can live with it." his eyes winced.

McCoy's hand twitched.  
  
"You don't look so well," Fuller said.   
  
"Ya think?" McCoy asked, his tired eyes directed toward the man with a twitching eyebrow.  
  
"I will get the doctor," Fuller said, then speed away.   
  
"Ya don't look so well, son," McCoy heard David's voice.   
  
". . . Pa?" McCoy asked, looking over in the direction of David's voice.   
  
There were some similarities between McCoy and  David but split apart by the color of their eyes. They looked alike. David appeared to be in his late thirties standing alongside the man with arched, bull horn shaped eyebrows. He recognized that face. His own face. His father was in his late fifties when he was a teenager and that is how McCoy remembered David the most.  Not losing his hair, looking weak, bleak, and helpless.  He looked so alive. So young So. . . So. . . So alive. Like he was looking at a photograph of his father brought to life from his youth.  
  
"I am not real, ya know," David said.   
  
"I wish ya were," McCoy said. 

"If I were real, I would say that ya the luckiest man in the world to have someone like Spock," David said. "but I don't understand why ya didn't tell him about the brain tumor."  
  
"Pa, I wanted our first shore leave together not to be full of bitterness and despair," McCoy said. "which is why I was takin' a pill to have it under control and just be in love," a fond smile grew on the doctors face recalling their day at the water park. How much they had on their second visit when Spock had fully learned to swim. McCoy in the Vulcan's arms with his arms wrapped around the Vulcan's neck as the Vulcan came out of the pool. The feel of dripping, cool warm water falling off his skin and the warmth of the Vulcan acting as a heater. "it was worth it."  
  
"Well, ya have not changed," David said  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. ". . . pa.. . I think I found my man."  
  
"To  share the rest of ya life with," David said. "with Spock."

McCoy nodded.   
  
"My natural life," McCoy said. "we are still gettin' to know each other but I feel like. . . he is my soulmate . . like . . ." the doctor leaned forward feeling a pain in his head. "ow, ow, ow," he winced then looked over toward the younger man. "we shared a quiet evenin' together . .  . just Spock and I."  
  
"Think of that," David said.   
  
"Why are ya here instead of someone else?" McCoy asked.   
  
David shrugged.   
  
"I am just here to be a familiar face for ya," David said. "I rather that it was ya grandpa."  
  
"We miss ya, Pa," McCoy said. "I miss ya so damn much."  
  
David placed a hand on McCoy's shoulder.   
  
"I am not really gone," David said.   
  
"Yes, ya are," McCoy said.   
  
"Who do ya think  I am not watching my son's medical career?" David asked, with a frown.   
  
"Pa. . ."  McCoy said, feeling emotional.   
  
"I am proud of ya, by the way," David said. "I really am."  
  
"Really?" McCoy said.   
  
"Gettin' ya mother a pet topped the cake," David said. "I am glad to see she is happy."  
  
"Good," McCoy said. "she should be."  
  
"One day, ya will get sick and there might not be a cure for it," David said. "the thin' is, what I really meant, behind my variation of the phrase, 'what ails you makes you stronger'. . . because its about the people who are there for you. They make ya stronger. They make ya fight like hell. They make ya want to live and get better fightin' against what is ailin' ya. That's what I mean."  
  
"Why ya tellin' me this?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Ya grandpa was houndin' me to know and I figure that ya should be the first to know," David said.   
  
"But that might not be your definition as a hallucination," McCoy said.   
  
"Or am I?" David asked. The younger man winked back at McCoy. "Son.  . . ya got blood comin' out of ya nose."  
  
McCoy's hand was twitching.   
  
McCoy used his still operating left hand to feel for the blood as his vision was getting dizzy.   
  
He saw fluent, red icky blood on his fingertips.   
  
"He looks fin--" Doctor House started but abruptly stopped as that was the last thing McCoy heard and his world turned black.


	37. Chapter 37

"Good morning, Lenny!" Eleanor said, opening the curtain.  
  
McCoy turned the blanket over his head with a groan.  
  
"Come on," Eleanor said, coming over to McCoy's bedside. "You are going to meet Mandy and Mr-stuffy-face."  
  
"Mandy and Mr Who?" McCoy lowered the blanket squinting his eyes with raised eyebrows.  
  
"Stuffy face," Eleanor repeated.  
  
"Stuffy face. . ." McCoy repeated to himself, without it ringing a bell in his memory.  
  
McCoy had a new layer of hair growing from the aftermath of the emergency brain removal surgery. He was not shirtless covered in three layers of blankets that almost seemed to act as his cocoon. Eleanor turned away from the window with a smile on her face as her companion, Brock, came to her side wagging his tail. The blankets were yellow, gray, and purple. They ranged in size for the human but the last one appeared to be large by most blanket standards and compared to his short, thin frame. McCoy's shoulders were exposed. McCoy could see a faint red line dotting his mother's pinkie finger. He had seen red long strings coming from everyone's pinkie fingers including his own.  His mother had a broken string dangling from her pinkie finger. Many went through starbase walls out into space. McCoy tried to count but failed to get them all.  But the most stumbling fact was that his string split into two. The doctors said that somehow he got more cones in his eyes and they will likely fade away with given time just as a side effect of the brain tumor surgery.  
  
Nothing like it had ever happened before in the medical community.  
  
He wasn't exactly a medium.  
  
Or a psychic.  
  
He was a doctor, damn it, not someone with psychic powers!  
  
"Look at that," Eleanor said, going over to the window. She admired the city with fondness in her eyes. She placed her hands on her hips with a warm smile. "looks like a nice day to go swimming."  
  
His mother gave nicknames to everyone.  
  
No one was excluded including for the plants.  
  
Everyone who crossed her path such as Spock, his sister, and everyone in between. So obviously, she had been keeping back a personal nickname for a friend for too long and forgot that she had not told McCoy about her new friends. It was a common characteristic of his mother. She was getting older and her memory was failing but he loved her regardless of what aging was doing to her. She looked gorgeous for her age. Nothing could change a  young at heart woman aging gracefully.  She didn't look a bit different to McCoy.  His mother was beautiful to him, no matter what.  
  
"I don't know anyone by the name stuffy face," McCoy said, as Brock jumped onto the bed.  
  
"He is going to be your father in law one day in the far future," Eleanor said, McCoy rubbed Brock's forehead.  
  
"Sarek? McCoy asked, stunned. "but shouldn't he be busy?"  
  
"There is a diplomatic situation going on between the Gangorians and the Loche regarding plants," Eleanor said. "Gangorians love them plants."  
  
"That again," McCoy sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Not anything new but Sarek is going to make it clear that arguing about plants is illogical and having regulations that prevent them from going off world is a clearly ridiculous decision," Eleanor said. "hopefully."  
  
"Ya don't have Gangorian plants,"  McCoy said.  
  
"Whose saying I am not planning to get a new garden?" Eleanor asked. "Between writing and Brock, I need more distractions," he reached out grabbing his cane leaned against the drawer. Brock leaped off rubbing along McCoy's leg like a cat. McCoy rubbed under Brock's jaw while it leaned against him. He traveled his hand down to the side of the dog's  neck feeling the soft, gentle warm fur. "Getting close to finishing my novel."  
  
McCoy slipped on the pink, fluffy slippers.  
  
"Ma," McCoy said. "remember the last time ya had Gangorian plants?"  
  
"They thrived," Eleanor said, sarcastically.  
  
"They died because ya put them in the wrong environment," McCoy said.  
  
"This time, Lenny," Eleanor waved her hand walking away from the window. Brock followed after her.  "I will not forget!"  
  
"All right, ma," McCoy said. He walked on his good foot forward toward the dresser drawer. "if ya say so."  
  
"Lenny," Eleanor said, as she had stopped feet away from the door with somewhat of a forced back laugh.  
  
"Yes ma?" McCoy said, slightly turned from the drawer.  
  
"I love you but if you are going to be in my house at least go to bed with shorts on,"  
  
"But I did g--" McCoy looked down. He wasn't wearing briefs or socks. "OoOh, my bad."  
  
"I will make ourselves breakfast!" Eleanor said.  
  
"No, Ma," McCoy protested. "I will make my own breakfast, ya don't need to do that--"  
  
McCoy stopped once she had was out of ear shot once through the door with Brock tagging after her. Sometimes it was best not to argue with his mother. McCoy lowered his head in defeat, leaning his hands and his body pressed forward against the surface of the drawer. The cane was placed against the counter. The doctor sighed then rubbed the side of his bad leg. A blood clot had been removed from there during the surgery because of a small incident removing the tumor.  It would take some time for the nerves to fully heal on their own, a week or two at most. McCoy slid the drawer open to see the folded briefs and socks.  He took out socks and briefs then headed to the closet. The closet door opened before him with one hand on the cane.  
  
McCoy saw variations of sweaters with 'v' shaped collars and several buttoned up shirts and pants dangling from side to side. McCoy rubbed his chin with his free hand. If McCoy was going to meet with the father of his boyfriend then he should dress for the occasion.  Dress well and you will get far. Someone once said that but McCoy was not sure who said it. He vividly recalled the quote in his youth---Oh right, it was a president who lead  into the era of sanctuary districts. Donald Trump, a businessman, the CEO of America who ruined his own country in four short years. He saw the dark blue sweater alongside a pair of black pants and white shirt with light blue checker marks. McCoy smiled then he grabbed reached out and took them placing them onto his forearm. He made his way into the guest bathroom that was part of his room. He placed the attire onto the back end of the toilet then stepped into the sonic shower. His body was coated in a thin layer of water. The filth of yesterday was vibrated off his skin. The sonic shower gently hummed. The doctor stepped out.  
  
Would Sarek and his bondmate Amanda approve of him? McCoy leaned against the sink with his torso covered in a towel as his hands were alongside the edges of the sonic sink. McCoy wiped off the steam from the window to see his face staring back at him. McCoy wondered to himself, _will Sarek be happy with his son being with someone so capable of dyin' any day?_ The doctor frowned then picked up the tooth brush. He squeezed the toothpaste onto the tooth brush. It had been two days since he had been discharged from the hospital. It was recommended, generally, by Doctor House that McCoy spend time with family and since he can walk, it wasn't reasonable to stay as his recovery can be done on his own. McCoy that this is the face that  Spock fell in love with. His head felt relaxed, and he felt relieved, free of what was ailing him. McCoy brushed his teeth. He had been given gifts by the others for finally leaving including from Fuller a pot of mushrooms growing from the remains of a rat.  Would McCoy  leave a good impression on Sarek?  
  
He lowered the tooth brush once brushing his teeth.  
  
It wasn't going to be bad.  
  
Or would he collapse due to something they missed?  
  
No, he was operated on by the most efficient medical professionals on the starbase.  
  
He was going to be fine.  
  
Not like there was going to be a assassin out for Sarek.  
  
Or was there?  
  
Ending a crucial meeting with the shot of a phaser?  
  
There were a million ways this could go terribly wrong.

"It is goin' to be fine, Len," McCoy said. "just relax ya;'self."

It pained to be someone who worried about everything.

A spread of warm, light feelings came through the thinned and strained bond. McCoy relaxed himself. Obviously Spock was feeling  his anxiety regarding this important day and likely did not know why his intended mate was experiencing these emotions. A confused, but well meaning boyfriend out in space. Someone he would eventually join in space. McCoy back to ten  thinking of good things until his loud, obnoxious concerns were small whispers at the back of his head.

"Much better," McCoy said,then he sent gratitude back through their link.

It was going to be okay.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The path that Spock and McCoy are currently taking, as of this story, is soley Spones. McSpirk, Spirk, McKirk is all optional for them off screen after the story concludes. As you can see . . . I have been littering Spirk hints. :p


	38. Chapter 38

Sometimes you gotta say shut up to the voices in your head and say "I can handle this". Then proving them by doing it. McCoy is the subject to his own 'what ifs' scenarios that he tells this to himself on just this very day. He didn't have voices. He had ideas of what could happen and his own concerns. He repeatedly told himself, mentally, that he could do this and it is going to be okay. Eleanor was walking Brock with McCoy strolling alongside her. He wasn't being verbal with his repeated reassurance but no one would be able to tell that he had a lot on his mind. McCoy wasn't sure if the bond was strong enough that Spock could hear his thoughts.

What McCoy didn't know is that Spock felt his pain loud and clear on the day that he collapsed. It came with being soulmates. What he did not know is that Spock sent a message to Eleanor to know his where-abouts and his well being. Spock had excused himself early on shift to allow himself meditation. He had felt the man's occasional pain during their time together but thought nothing of it. It wouldn't spoil their time together. Holding the doctor in his arms, helping him skate, and being kissed by him. It made perfect sense back when his boyfriend was distressed and denied it. He was preparing Spock for something like this to happen. To comfort Spock when McCoy wasn't there. And it worked.  
  
Brock, the chow, tilted his head looking up toward the doctor mimicking his owner.  
  
"You okay,  Lenny?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"I am fine, ma," McCoy said, with a reassuring smile back at his mother walking alongside the woman.  
  
"Today Joanna is making her call," Eleanor said. "you should tell her."  
  
"That I got my tumor removed?" McCoy asked. "No, wait for her to lay out her week for me. . . first."  
  
"Sweetie, she might be worried about you more than telling how her day went," Eleanor said.  
  
"Well, if she will see me first then she will know I did not die," McCoy said. "we get that off the table."  
  
"She loves you and so do I," Eleanor said. "but that surgery . .  ."  
  
"What about it?" McCoy asked.  
  
"You are a little. . .different. . . like you see things that your little old mother can not see," Eleanor said, with a wave of her hand. "At first I thought you had a new fetish but . . . then you look at the sky. . . all the time. The doctors refuse to tell me. No one tells me what is going on with you anymore."  
  
McCoy placed his right hand on her shoulder, lightly.  
  
"It is a side effect, ma," McCoy said. "That's all. It'll be gone soon."  
  
"It better be," Eleanor said. "because I don't want scientists prodding into your brain after throwing people around, moving furniture with your mind, and shattering everything like little miss Carrie."  
  
"So do I," McCoy said, taking his hand off her shoulder.  

They walked into the building that Sarek had instructed that they go into. The walls were a shade of gray with curved ceilings that bridged over people arriving. There were transparent, gray see through glass. There were paintings decorating the halls showing first contact of different species with star fleet officers but in many of them were the NXS Enterprise Captain Archer with his pet beagle. Admiral Archer was quite pleased with the paintings as they were historically accurate with the crewmembers who were on the away missions with him. Oddly enough, McCoy could see Jim and  Spock being part of history's paintings. They were making history left and right encountering new civilizations, bringing help to them, and rescuing Star  Fleet officers while discovering new ones. Star Fleet loved holo-emitters, holophotos, and photographs as a whole. Wishful thinking. The doctor shook his head. Brock tilted his head to both sides at the photos confused to see the standing still beagle.  
  
Brock barked at the photograph wagging his tail.  
  
"Brock,sssssh," Eleanor said.  Brock barked, again. "Brock," Brock whined looking up toward the woman with a guilty look. She gestured toward a sign on the wall that the dog could clearly read: no barking. Brock looked over in the direction of the woman with his tongue hanging out.  
  
"Where we are supposed to go now?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I believe there is a garden out back," Eleanor said. "he is likely dealing with the conflict upstairs."  
  
"A garden?" McCoy asked. "Starbase Command Central has a garden?"  
  
"Yes," Eleanor said. "don't be so surprised."  
  
"I did not think the central base would have one," McCoy said.  
  
"Space men prefer to have something to distract them," Eleanor said, as they passed by several star fleet officers. They were in dark gray jackets with the colors reflecting their career tracks and shoulder padds. They had matching gray pants. Eleanor looked at the uniforms in disgust. "Starbase  uniforms? That is an awful fashion style. The color should be career track and then gray. Would look much better."  
  
"They look--" McCoy noticed the uniforms. "terrible," he grimaced at the uniforms. "I hope that is not goin' to be the new star fleet uniform in 2270."  
  
"It would look awful on you," Eleanor said.  
  
"Yes, it would," McCoy agreed. "I am already fearin' my next temporary assignment."  
  
"You will be fine," Eleanor said. "you are my little Lenny, nothing is ever going to happen yo you."  
  
"Someone might tag me in a photograph and then everyone would see a picture of me in that uniform," McCoy said. "I hate it."  
  
"Live with it," Eleanor said. "you are going to need to start wearing it when you visit starbases."  
  
"Whose idea was it to introduce that uniform?" McCoy asked. "It looks like a stuffy sweater merged into a jacket. God, it looks awful."  
  
"You love sweaters," Eleanor said.  
  
"I do, but that tops the cake," McCoy said.  
  
"Not any different," Eleanor said, as her son's eyes strayed to the red strings of fate were strewn about the room.

They came out to the wide, yet large well kept garden outside the building. Eleanor was taken back at the garden with a slight gasp. There were plants co-existing together in the same plot of engineered land. There was a system that tended to the plants while the gardeners, who took care of the physical duty, were having some time to themselves. Gardeners had a schedule to abide by to tend the plants at a certain time. Commodore Paris was among the people smelling the roses in her one hand wearing a pair of dark gray gloves. She had a young boy alongside her leg who was looking over the ledge that prevented the plants from falling out. There were a dozen others in the scenery. The pair came over to the purple, sparkly flowers that had a shade of lighter purple at the tips. The garden resembled more of a maze.  The soil was black and there were small, little rounded red balls on the soil.  
  
"Someone left a tomato to grow here,"  Eleanor remarked. "it looks like SC downloaded a plant."  
  
McCoy leaned over then looked at the sign.  
  
"That is not supposed to be there," McCoy said, then he carefully tugged the tomatoes out of the soil. He placed them into his pocket.  
  
"What if they need it?" Eleanor asked.  
  
"Well," McCoy said. "ya think they would have added another sign."  
  
"They should have," Eleanor said. Brock raised his nose up sniffing the air with a white snout.

"Not a bad place to meet up," McCoy said, as Eleanor pet along Brock's head.  Eleanor looked around until her eyes caught sight of a plant she liked.  
  
"A Banana Herb!"  Eleanor cried, alarming Brock and McCoy.  
  
Eleanor went after what appeared to be a tall towering tree with ripe bananas dangling from the top.  Brock followed after the woman. McCoy raised his eyebrows at the mention of Banana Herb because isn't it called a Banana Tree? McCoy shook his head turning it in the direction of the flowers. He trailed along the flowers. He lowered himself down and smelled a few of them enjoying the scents coming from them. His nerves were calmed. His anxiety regarding meeting Sarek and Amanda had eased by the flowers. The flowers smelled so soothing and unique. One of which smelled like a peach. He looked up occasionally to see his mothers shape going over to the vegetable section. His mother would make a excellent planter if she tried.

The plants were simply spell binding.  
  
"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a woman's voice.  
  
McCoy jumped back turning in the source of the voice with his skin white.  
  
"Oh," McCoy said, regaining his composure as his eyes landed on the woman. "Yes, it is."  
  
Before McCoy stood a woman with brown graying hair, green kind eyes, and a pair of golden earrings that complimented the red-orange-pinkish dress that had fur along the cuffs. She had bags under her eyes. She seemed to be in a kind of fashion that was popular among older women for that matter. Older women wore bright, colorful attire. Attire that contrasted against the dark, mysterious dressed Vulcans. Vulcans had claimed the theme darkness for their civilization's dress style,unoffically,while other species dressed more colorfully them. She had her hands cupped together, merged, really, into each other with the  furry cuffs draping over her knuckles. She had a warm smile on her face. The woman was radiating with a likable, loving aura that had helped in calming the doctor down.  
  
"I am sorry for startling you like that," Amanda walked forward, gracefully.  
  
"It is fine," McCoy said, with a shake of his free hand. "ya must be Amanda?"  
  
She held her hand out.  
  
"That I am," Amanda said. "and you are Doctor McCoy."  
  
"At ya service," McCoy took her hand and lightly shook it. "Ma has told me a lot about ya."  
  
"She is a talker," Amanda said, as they walked side by side down the maze of flowers.  
  
"Say," McCoy said. "why does she call Sarek stuffy face?"  
  
"He has a bad allergy to cicadas," Amanda said, earning a laugh from McCoy.  
  
"No, really," McCoy said. "why? Is it because he is determined on followin' the Vulcan way?"  
  
"A little of that and a little of this," Amanda waved her hand. "and a little of over eating when it comes to pumpkin pie." McCoy and Amanda shared a laugh.  
  
"Ya had pumpkin pie with my ma around?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I couldn't stop her," Amanda said. "but I have to admit. . . it was worth getting Sarek drunk to hear him sing."  
  
"Poor man," McCoy said, amused.  
  
"Have you done that to a Vulcan?" there was  a mischievous gleam in her eyes.  
  
"Don't plan to," McCoy said. "I do not wish to see a Vulcan drunk, let alone, pissed."  
  
"One piece of advice," Amanda said. "make sure you have help or strong enough to help them to bed."  
  
"That's another reason why  I rather not get a Vulcan drunk," McCoy said. "is it true regardin' Vulcan's gettin' colder as they age?"  
  
"Yes," Amanda said. "remarkable memory so far."

"Here I thought they remained heatin' ovens due to the planet they lived on," McCoy said.  
  
"So did I," Amanda said, with a short laugh to herself.  
  
"Do ya thin we are takin' it too fast?" McCoy asked.  
  
"You haven't exactly had a bonding ceremony or have established a marriage bond in one week," Amanda said. McCoy nodded. "you have been on a dozen dates with what my son has told me through our previous messages," a blush grew on the doctor's cheeks. "You are not living a Disney movie or Romeo and Juliet without the death."  
  
"I was gettin' worried," McCoy said. "I don't want this relationship to go too fast on Spock and be disappointment for him."  
  
"He won't be disappointed," Amanda said. "if anything . . ." she briefly paused. "you need to have an eye out for Spock  getting scared about getting bonded to you," McCoy let out  a sigh of relief. He wasn't the only one scared about it. "because he will likely run away and conduct Kolinahr. Purging his emotional half. . ."  
  
"Now wait  a second, Spock, doing that?" McCoy asked, feeling like the air had been whacked out of him. That sounded nothing like the Spock that he was getting to know and liked.  It sounded like a child who had been dumped and ran away feeling the stinging fresh pain of a break up. It was not like Spock. It sounded nothing like Spock. Spock would never, ever, do that. Spock, by McCoy's standards, was very emotional but hid his emotions well from others. He was sure the Vulcan liked his insults because they confirmed that he was doing well being a Vulcan. Smug bastard wouldn't purge his other half.  
  
"Yes," Amanda said.  
  
"He would be a zombie,"  McCoy said. But if a handful of aliens or Vulcan's saw a emotion drip from Spock, then yes, he plausibly would flee and attend Kolinahr but he wouldn't reach the destination on McCoy's watch. Never would he ever let his loved one ruin his life and future because of mean, xenophobic aliens.  
  
"You need to be aware of the possibility that he will do that at the ceremony," Amanda said.  
  
"Get cold feet," McCoy said.  "did Sarek get cold feet?"  
  
"No," Amanda said.  
   
"I suppose you two came together for practical reasons," McCoy said, earning a wink from the older woman.  
  
"I married him because it was logical," Amanda said.

"Ya a fairy tale," McCoy said.  
  
"Winona and George had some help in that," Amanda said. "mostly Winnie."  
  
"Just how lon' has Jim and  Spock known each other?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Since Spock was three years old," Amanda said.  
  
"Now that makes a lot of sense," McCoy said, bemused.  "no wonder they were stuck together the first time I met the two."

"They have always that way," Amanda said. "for the life of me, I can't see why they got along together intimately than Spock and T'Pring. . ." she shared a side glance to the man by her side. "but I suppose it makes sense given that he gravitated toward people of his gender."  
  
"Tell me . . . did they ever date?" McCoy asked.  
  
"They were very close friends, nothing else," Amanda said.  "They went their separate ways when it came to the academy. Meeting each other again on the Enterprise was just a happenstance."  
  
"A happy one," McCoy said.  
  
"Are you happy with Spock?" Amanda asked.  
  
"I am," McCoy said.   "I am sure he is pleased to have me as his boyfriend."  
  
McCoy flashed back to each and every Vulcan Kiss that they had shared together. Human kisses. The Vulcan French Kisses they shared. Cuddling. Being together silently, watching a good movie, and comforting each other. He was certain of it. Spock was the one actively pursuing their relationship. He sent a message in Vulcan calligraphy to McCoy sent directly from his padd. McCoy liked challenges and he didn't need help on this one. Preferably, McCoy wanted to learn Vulcan calligraphy on his own so he can understand what his boyfriends shirts were saying in Vulcan. McCoy had opted to use a 'how to' guide and structuring his reply with a pen would take some time, obviously. A smile grew on the doctors face.

"Spock didn't answer my question regarding the two of you," Amanda said.  
  
"What was that?" McCoy rubbed the circular, hard surface where the Vokaya rested under on his chest while looking over toward the older woman.  
  
"Has he been talking in  Vulcan yet when you are cuddling?" Amanda asked.  
  
"He doesn't talk much when we cuddle," McCoy said.  
  
"When he does," Amanda said. "you might want to expand your vocabulary in the Vulcan language so you can understand it."  
  
McCoy nodded.  
  
"I will take that under advisement," McCoy said.  
  
"He got that from his father," Amanda said. "a endearing characteristic."  
  
"Not like ya speak Latin when ya cuddle with Sarek," McCoy said. "for a former linguistic officer."  
  
"I left Star Fleet to be a teacher when I was a lieutenant," Amanda said. "it doesn't say that on my file."  
  
"That is what my ma told me," McCoy said.  
  
"I only wish Ellie was around when I was in Star Fleet," Amanda said. "we should have bumped into each other at least once in our lives," her fingers drifted over toward the flower along the green wall. "shame we didn't meet each other in our youth," she shook her head as they continued their way down the path. McCoy took out one of the small tomatoes then put into his mouth and began chewing on it. "her writing is rather colorful."  
  
McCoy nodded.  
  
"It reminds me of The Fifth Element but meets Galaxy Quest meets Jane Bond," Amanda said. McCoy raised his eyebrows in return while combing through his memory for a secret agent who has to save the world every five thousand years and explores the galaxy while doing so being part of a crew. Nothing came up in his memory. "Very entertaining novel," the doctor swallowed what he was eating. "has anyone told your mother that her books would make great movies?"  
  
"Plenty of times," McCoy said.

"If you do get married to him," Amanda said. "he will be calling you husband in English or in Vulcan."  
  
"Which one is better?" McCoy asked, raising an arched eyebrow.  
  
"Between husband or adun, I go with husband," Amanda said. "he calls me 'aduna' in Vulcan."  
  
"That is sweet," McCoy said. "how is it like havin' him in ya head?"  
  
"It was startling at first, novelty, and foriegn," Amanda said. "it took me six months to be used to it by Sarek's  little method of 'giving the taste of the bond in increments'."  
  
"I see," McCoy said.    
  
"But it will probably different for you," Amanda said. "it is different to every Vulcanian-human union."  
  
"What else should I expect?" McCoy asked.  
  
"You met his brother," Amanda said.  
  
"Asides to that, Mrs Grayson," McCoy said.  
  
"They are very surprising people," Amanda said. "who are very good at keeping secrets. Like say, organizing a surprise party and keeping the information back," her fingers drifted over the soft, gentle squishy flowers. "Spock has organized mothers day without fail. Fathers day. . ."  
  
"Is a different story," McCoy said.  
  
"Yes," Amanda said. "they have not been exactly on speaking terms since  Spock left for Star Fleet."  
  
McCoy frowned.  
  
"They can't keep a cold shoulder to each other forever,"  McCoy said.  
  
"I assure you," Amanda said. "they can. The Vulcan Academy of Science has plenty of cold shoulders to give around and keep."

McCoy and Amanda  shared a laugh.  
  
"That is a nice joke," McCoy said.  McCoy was delighted.  
  
"I have been waiting to tell someone that who isn't a diplomat and wouldn't get insulted," Amanda said.  
  
"How much of a pain in the ass is it tryin' to make small talk?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Everything that I want to say is deemed not appropriate," Amanda said.  
  
"That kind of stick in the ass," McCoy said, holding a tomato out for her.  "want one?"  
  
"Love to," Amanda took the small rounded, tomato. Amanda bite into the tomato. "hmmm."  
  
"Good treat, isn't it?" McCoy asked.  
  
Amanda nodded.  
  
"It is," Amanda said. "and so are you." She finished the tomato putting it into her mouth and finished it up.

McCoy was flattered  as he felt around the pink flower smelling the aroma. There were different scents about the garden coming from at least, high likely, hundreds of different flowers from different planets. The leaves were gentle and flat. Amanda held her two fingers out and a pair of green, long fingers returned the gesture in a flash of darkness. A man with curly graying black hair in dark robes apparated to her side. The resemblance was uncanny between Spock and Sarek with a similar build except Spock lacked curly hair bangs. McCoy almost tripped on the cane and righted himself up. From between the two aging couple, McCoy could see a bit of Spock from them.  But mostly from Sarek. The eyebrows, the slanted eyebrows, and the brown eyes from his father. The long, hollow like chin from his father.  
  
"Hello, Ambassador," McCoy said.  
  
"Greetings, Doctor McCoy," Sarek said.  
  
"I trust that the meeting went well, husband, " Amanda said.  
  
"Not the way  I intended but it was satisfactory," Sarek said,  his right hand behind his back as he lowered his right hand. His eyes directed in the direction of the shorter human across from himself. "your mother is a odd human."  
  
"That, she is," McCoy said. "ya haven't heard all the things she does for the sake of writin'. Got banned from Cardassia Prime."  
  
Sarek raised an eyebrow.  
  
"She never mentioned that," Sarek said, as Amanda shook her head with a laugh. "I can see why she is tight regarding her writing career."  
  
"She has some of her writin' reflect her past," McCoy said. "her heart is everywhere if ya didn't notice."  
  
"Colorful," Amanda said. "a colorful woman."  
  
"Which book reflects a real event?" Sarek asked.  
  
"The one about the ten---no wait, six foot tall lion pack prowlin' after a safaari . . . engineered. . ." McCoy shook his hand. "just a test run. That is the premise." Amanda looked over toward McCoy as though she had never heard of this book. "but the novel. . . welll. . . it is incredibly gross and gorey. It's like Zoo meets Man's Best Friend meets Underdog. . . sort of."  
  
"I enjoy reading that kind of novel," Sarek said, earning a jaw drop from McCoy.  
  
"Oh dear," McCoy said. "she has lots like it. Twenty?  Thirty? Lost track when  I was thirteen."  
  
"Sarek, where are you going?" Amanda said, as her husband turned away and walked in the direction that he came.  
  
"Ask Eleanor the complete list of her horror novels," Sarek replied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adun=male life mate aka husband. 
> 
> aduna=female life mate aka wife.


	39. Chapter 39

The screen brightened to life. A familiar face appeared on the screen wearing a smile and her hair was up in a bun that was normally worn by older women. She was in her cadet reds that were zipped down. Her cadet red jacket was placed on a chair behind her back with the red hat alongside her arm. She had bags under her eyes just like her father. McCoy could see a green figure int he background with wild red hair right over Joanna's left shoulder holding a padd with her legs stacked against each other lacking socks. That he knew because of the shape of two green feet.  
  
"How are ya?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Irritable," Joanna's face met the wooden surface and there was a groan. "I am a space time travelin' puddle that keeps leaking in human form."  
  
McCoy laughed.  
  
"Got tests all ready?"  McCoy asked.

Joanna leaned herself back up.  
  
"I am studying a warp core design. It's mandatory first test!" Joanna leaned back combing her hands on the side of her face. "deadly radiation, chamber, and other shit."  
  
 "One day ya might need it," McCoy said. "just know that."  
  
"Ya never had to study or attend at Star Fleet Academy," Joanna said. "its not worth it."  
  
"Ya might eat your  foot one day for sayin'," McCoy said. "I thought knowin' Gangorian wouldn't be necessary but, look, it was!"  
  
"That's different," Joanna said.  
  
"Uh huh," McCoy said. "how was the class?"  
  
"Jaylah, that girl from Altamid, came in and gave a entire lecture about the Franklin's engineering for  two hours with random stories thrown in," a smile grew on the doctors face hearing her suffering. "I know she is a pretty important lieutenant but can they have arranged it as a lecture than a one hour class?"

McCoy vividly recalled the story about Altamid.

To be exact: the near fall of the Enterprise.

He remembered the coverage in 2263.

Gasps were in the room that he was in, panic, and unsure. There were many loved ones his patients had on the starship. The three hundred eighty-three crew members who were interviewed upon arrival at the nearest starbase regarding what had happened. How Christopher Pike marked the end of his captaincy by being a hero. Before accepting the rank of fleet captain. A rank that the captain clearly enjoyed to be in. Like Jim, Spock, Pike belonged in space. McCoy had heard stories regarding the man's strict adherence to protocol, the prime directive, and how he ran himself dry over losing his men and women on away missions. He was tired of losing people. McCoy understood that feeling. As a doctor, McCoy could not save everyone. Jaylah and the other survivors of starship crashes were among the interviewed. Her broken English. Her white skin with black long marks. She lacked eyebrows. She was truly humanoid.

The Enterprise had managed to defeat the hive mind with the help of Lieutenant Spock, Lieutenant Commander Annie Dallas, and Captain Pike.

The  planet was only boarded to track down Krall.

"I don't know sweetie," McCoy said. "but if it were the last class of the day. . .Then it would be a reasable hour for her to talk."

"It was," Joanna said.

"Good reason to authorize it for turning into that," McCoy said.  
  
Joanna sighed.  
  
"Pa, that was so lon'," Joanna said. "and my bladder was full. I completely missed what she said."  
  
"Did someone record it?" McCoy prodded.  
  
"Yes," Joanna said.  
  
"And have ya watched it?" McCoy asked.  
  
"No," Joanna said. "I will watch it later."  
  
"And how's your xenobiology classes?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Going off smoothly,"  Joanna said. "I like it."  
  
"That is good," McCoy said, as a small smile grew on his face.

"How was the surgery?" Joanna asked.  
  
"Oh, fine," McCoy said, rubbing the turned over pendant on his chest. The greenness stood out. He preferred to have it upside down in public but in private it was shining for the world to see. It looked good both ways. Joanna raised her arched eyebrow at the man. "asides to the temporary need of needin' a walking cane."  
  
"You can walk," Joanna said. "you can walk again!"  
  
"Yes," McCoy said.  
  
"PA, YOU CAN DANCE AT MY WEDDIN' WHEN I HAVE IT!" Joanna said.   "oh my gooooood, pa!"  
  
McCoy watched Joanna wave her hands. He saw the red faint line around her finger. She wasn't noticing the pendant around his neck. McCoy sent a tinge of warmth through the link. His baby blue eyes traveled over to the pinkie finger where he saw the thin, tight red line. His eyes returned to his daughter who was no longer sitting but appeared to be dancing. She always was the kind who had to dance to express herself. She could be a excellent dancer. The dancing occupation was mainly occupied by orion females. He looked at his daughter fondly seeing the figures of two women jumping up and down and one had black shorts on that ended right at the center of the thighs.

McCoy moved the padd to his side to see the screen had glowed to life and there was a new message on his screen.  
  
McCoy tapped on it lightly to  see a reply in the form of a freeverse federation poem.

-  
  
_I hold thee,_  
  
_In my arms,_  
  
_While thee reads a book holding tea,_  
  
_Where there is no harms,_  
  
_In seeing a smile on,_  
  
_thy's face,_  
  
-  
  
_I love thee,_  
  
_I cherish thee,_  
  
_Higher than Vulcan sweet tea,_  
-  
  
And that was only the beginning of the poem.  
  
"Oh dear god, what have I done by sending a sweet little poem?" McCoy muttered to himself, scrolling down to see the section become more affectionate and loving by the stanza.  
-  
_Thy's cheeks are pink,_  
  
_As a cufflink,_  
  
_Covered in shiny glitter,_  
  
_That is left on my hands,_  
  
_When I gently stroke the side of it,_  
  
_Feeling the soft, tender yet hard skin,_  
  
_That has a gravitational tilt to it,_

-

_I feel alive,_

_A simple feeling,_

_That stirrs, crackles, electrifies inside my life,_

_What a satisfactory  dealing_  
-  
  
_Thy face,_  
  
_Is ripe,_  
  
_That I grab the side of it,_  
  
_and kiss thy's lips,_  
  
_Exploring the inside of its gravitational tilt,_  
-  
  
His cheeks practically heated.  
  
"Ya tall sap," McCoy said, gently stroking the green object on his chest. "I will make ya a poem that says how Vulcan and human ya are."  
  
"Pa, what poem?" Joanna asked, leaning forward with her roommate alongside her.  
  
"For Spock," McCoy said, taking out a stylist. "ya next parent in law."  
  
"Okay, I won't peer into ya business again," Joanna meekly shrugged.

"Good," McCoy said, flashing a confidant smile. "how do I make a  flirty poem?"  
  
The two women fell over laughing.


	40. Chapter 40

"Mr Spock, have you read poetry?" Jim asked, looking at his friend in concern.  
  
 Spock stared back at the captain.  
  
"You and participated in a shakespearen play during our youth if you have not forgotten," Spock reminded him.  
  
 "But that is different," Jim said. "This poetry is. . . well. . beyond our leagues," the captain raised his eyebrows at the Vulcan. "you have a wonderful voice, lieutenant, but perhaps we should have Lieutenant Uhura read it."  
  
"She has read the previous poem," Spock said. "if we wish to get them into the federation then we must abide their rules."  
  
 Jim looked over toward Nyota and the two security officers then to the audience from behind the dark curtain. He was concerned, and worried, about the Vulcan. He all ready lost a previous security officer because they were terrible being animated reading a poem that featured more than two characters. It wasn't a pretty sight. Just an ensign. He rubbed his hands together feeling anxious. He had done his poetry reading. The audience had loved hm throwing roses to his feet making a pile tower around him. Quite impressive by human standards. He was worried about Spock. Would he come back as a whole? He couldn't lose the best friend, the best officer in the fleet, or his childhood friend over how the poetry reading was executed. Spock placed a hand on the man's shoulder.  
  
"Captain," Spock said. "I have performed before a audience."  
  
 Jim sighed.  
  
 "Yes, you have," Jim said. "but that was a small audience."  
  
"If worse things come to ocurr," Spock said. "I would be pleased if you would tell the doctor that---"  
  
"I will do that," Jim interrupted, looking at Spock with heart eyes.  
  
"And that I have a final mind meld with you," Spock said. "you must go to Vulcan afterwards."  
  
"Why?" Jim asked, startled.  
  
"It is the Vulcan way," Spock said. "my father will explain upon your arrival. It is of great importance that you arrive there as soon as possible."  
  
"I trust you," Jim said. "my friend."

Jim had sensed the Vulcan's concern for him through the gentle touch. Spock's hand let go of the human's shoulder. Jim stepped aside allowing the Vulcan to pass by him to the stage. He was joined by Nyota and the two security officers. He was terrified. Pure and simple, the facade of his confidence that Spock would come back was only his sheer powerful hope and not the true confidence. Spock was going to come back. He was going to come back. Spock was not going to lose his head.  He wore a hopeful expression with his eyes on the moving, dark curtain.  
  
"Captain," Nyota said. "he is going to be fine."  
  
Jim looked over toward Nyota.  
  
"Do you have your personal padd, Lieutenant?" Jim asked.  
  
"Yes," Nyota said.  
  
"Record this session," Jim said, "discreetly, in the background," a soft smile grew on the woman's face. "I want his boyfriend to see how well Spock does on the stage."  
  
"Will do, captain," Nyota said.

* * *

McCoy was standing against the balcony watching the last few minutes of the holovid. Spock was surely unaware of the video was trending in the galactic web. It had  one million hits, twenty-three thousand likes, and thirty-three dislikes. It was posted under the Psuedom Grace Jamison. McCoy figured it had to be Nyota who posted it. He smiled, pressing the like button multiple times until he realized he could only leave one like. The pinicles of technology resting before his fingers. He opened the message that Spock had sent him. He saw the message below.  
  
_Thy eyes are blue,_  
  
_As the sky on Earth,_  
  
_Full of warmth,_  
  
_Full of worth,_  
  
_-_  
_I look forward,_  
  
_To our next physical meeting,_  
  
_Toward,_  
  
_Holding thee while treating,_  
  
_myself,_  
  
_With thee's  presence,_  
_-_  
_When I first saw thee,_  
_thee's beauty struck me,_  
_I am fortunate for thee,_  
_As a pea,_  
_-_  
_Rhyming,_  
  
_Is changing on a dime,_  
  
_But nothing as scheming,_  
  
_Or charming,_  
  
_As thee,_

-  
  
McCoy smiled.

-  
  
_Your words,_  
  
_Of poetry_  
  
_On the stage,_  
  
_Is hilarious,_

 _-_  
_I love you very much as a page,_  
  
_In a never ending delirious,_  
  
_But welcoming romance,_  
  
_Novel that my mother,_  
  
_That is on a dance,_  
  
_To its further,_  
  
_Of a fate,_  
  
_-_  
  
_You are spell binding,_  
  
_Your voice lacks emotion,_  
  
_Your voice is steady and spell bounding,_  
  
_Your voice is lotion,_  
  
_That I love to hear,_  
  
-  
  
_I look forward,_  
  
_To hearing you again,_  
  
_Toward,_  
  
_That,_  
  
_I abstain,_  
  
_Touching,_  
  
_Torching,_  
  
_Flesh,_  
  
-  
  
McCoy snickered sending the message back.

"Bet he can't beat that," McCoy said.   
  
A ding came from the padd.   
  
"Hmm?" McCoy said, as Eleanor came out back with Brock by her side. "Spock could not have read it that fast."  
  
"Still firting through poems?" Eleanor asked.   
  
"Complimentin'," McCoy said, tapping on the comn terminal inbox.   
  
"Same thing, Lenny," Eleanor said, sitting down along her son.   
  
"It's from Star Fleet Command," McCoy's heart nearly skipped a beat.   
  
"Well?" Eleanor said. "open it."  
  
"What if they decided to formally give me a early retirement?" McCoy asked.   
  
"You wouldn't last as a rogue planet side doctor," Eleanor said. "Open it!"  
  
McCoy tapped on the message holding his breath.   
  
"Well?" Eleanor asked. "what does it say?"  
  
McCoy's hands were trembling.   
  
"I have been assigned to the new Federation  Colony," McCoy said. "for the next three months."   
  
"What? You? On? A? Federation Colony?" Eleanor asked. "Son, someone done and screwed up."       
  
McCoy steadied his hands.   
  
"Well, it gets me certainly back to readjustin' to servin' patients," McCoy said. " and gettin' back onto normal sleepin' schedule." The doctor sat into a chair alongside his mother.   
  
"If you feel that you can serve then I am outright supporting you," Eleanor said.   
  
"Ya  the best mother in the galaxy," McCoy looked over toward his mother as Brock placed his head on the doctor's lap.   
  
Eleanor took a sip of her chocolate mug with a smug expression on her face.   
  
"I can't wait to see my son in that horrible outfit and send it to every McCoy in the quadrant," Eleanor said. "oooooh boy."  
  
"Ma!" McCoy protested, as he overheard the woman's laughter while stroking the chow's head. 

 


	41. Chapter 41

"Say cheese!"  Eleanor said.  
  
"Rotten cheese," McCoy said.  
  
McCoy frowned back, his arms folded behind his back, with his duffle bag alongside his leg, and his starbase uniform didn't feel all that comfortable. It was tight. Extremely tight. It pressed against his adam's apple. He felt around the neck collar giving some room to breath against the tightness. He was in the grayed, yet blue variation of the jacket that had stuffy shoulders but the jacket otherwise fit his womanly like waist. His eyes wondered over to the woman's side. Spock should be here.  He should be here. He had his personal padd behind him, behind his back, actually, with his arched eyebrows knotted in the direction of the black woman. He hadn't been in the medical blues, yet. He was going to ber in it soon. He wondered how difficult it would be to get the new variation off.  
  
"Lenny," Eleanor said. "it feels like you are going right off to the university again." her eyes teared up.  
  
McCoy approached his mother.  
  
"Fully vaccinated, ma," McCoy said. "and I will make a photo album of the entire colony," it comforted his mother as he had one free hand on her shoulder. He offered her a comforting smile. "I am not goin' to fall sick as I did last time. . . as grandpa said, what what ails ya makes ya stronger."  
  
Elenaor grabbed her son into a hug.  
  
"You better come back alive or else I am coming to deaths door and dragging your ass out of there," Eleanor said. "I did not just watch you these six months to a full operatioal forty plus year old man for nothing!"  
  
"I love ya, ma," McCoy said, patting her back. "make sure ya finish that romance novel," he leaned back, standing straight and tall, not having a walking cane alongside his leg. "don't ditch it because I am gone.  
  
"It is a horror, romance novel," Eleanor said. "Amanda has given me some really good ideas on how to kill Vulcans off during a romance novel."  
  
McCoy leaned away with a smile looking back at his mother.

"I am glad you befriended someone new," McCoy said, sliding his hand off her back.   
  
"If you never got sick, I never would have gotten two new fans nagging me," Eleanor said. "it has been a long time since anyone nagged me about writing."  
  
"Enjoy it while it lasts," McCoy said.   
  
"Sweetie, you have no idea how much I am enjoying it," Eleanor said, with a wide radiative smile. "enjoy your time on the Shuttle Craft Robinhood to your 'temporary' assignment before space."  
  
"Shuttle  Craft Robyn," McCoy said. "a coincidence that it is named that way. And it'll be over before I know it."  
  
"Same thing," Eleanor shook her hand.   
  
A ding came from his padd then he took it from behind his back and had it in his line of vision.  
  
McCoy slid his finger on the screen to see Vulcan calligraphy: I can not wait to be in the same room as you.   
  
McCoy then knelt down to Brock.   
  
"Ya take care of my ma," McCoy said. Brock nodded his head with a whine. "Then we are on speakin' terms," he raised himself up toward his mother. "and ya take care of Brock. Love him and he will return the favor."  
  
"Your ride is preparing to leave," Eleanor said.   
  
"Oh shit, really?" McCoy turned in the direction of the other star fleet officers heading toward the shuttle craft port hall.  
  
Eleanor snapped two pictures.   
  
One of McCoy turned away from her.   
  
The second of McCoy's startled facial expression.   
  
"This will make an excellent photograph collection," Eleanor said. "Now shoo! I love ya, Lenny, but the chick has to fly away sometime."  
  
McCoy smiled back at her then picked up his duffle bag. He headed in the direction of the doorway getting further and further away from his mother. He was whole again. Perfectly functioning. The Shuttle Craft was capable of traveling through space, exiting atmosphere, entering atmosphere, and capable of during a ion storm. He felt like a new energy had entered him. Like he was returning back to a familiar ground that he knew too well. McCoy was going to see Spock, again, in space and likely serve with him. He actually looked forward to it. He came to the stair case greeted by a young Andorian man in uniform.   
  
"Doctor McCoy?" the Andorian man asked, raising a white eyebrow.   
  
"At ya service," McCoy said.   
  
"How was your downtime?" the Andorian man asked. McCoy thought back to all his family members who had recently visited him during the past two weeks and gone out to town drinking together as a family. Everyone looked different but strikingly similar. He thought back to Spock. Eleanor. Joanna. And what members of the Enterprise crew that he had met. A smile grew on the doctor's face.   
  
"Fantastic," McCoy said.  
  
"Go in," the Andorian man said.   
  
And in he went to the shuttle craft that was full of security officers.   
  
"Federation Colony?" McCoy asked the commander sitting alongside him.   
  
Commander Ripley nodded.   
  
"My first command," Ripley said, as the doctor buckled himself up. "you?"  
  
"Not my first planet side assignment," McCoy said. 


	42. Chapter 42

McCoy's eyes finally once the craft began to experience turbulence.  He could hear loud, alarming sounds beating against the side of the shuttle's hull. The fifteen other security officers jerked awake. The resting chamber had been deactivated apparently for the long ride. It had been approximately eight days since they left the starbase. McCoy's baby blue eyes adapted to the scenery as the feelings of uneasy was carried in the room. He heard the navigator and the pilot bickering about something. His eyes looked over to the men and women with tight grips on the handles on the arm rests.    
  
McCoy sent fear through the link.  
  
Confusion and concern returned with a wave of reassurance shortly afterwards.  
  
He saw the red lines from everyone's pinkie fingers going out through different windows as the shuttle craft trembled. There was a gentle, low shade of red engulfing the inside of the passenger chamber. His heart was beating against his chest. He was feeling terrible. The dark duffle bag was on  his lap. His heart could have easily gone to his throat out of  the fear that he was feeling. He gripped onto his duffle bag praying to god that he survive this. The colony was supposed to have clear, light gray  clouds and blue skies not heavy, dark like fog. He saw flares of red in the fog as the shuttle craft tilted from side to side with a heavy groan. Something  was not right. He looked over to Commander Ripley. His gut was screaming that something was wrong. Very wrong. The shuttle craft came to a landing once establishing a level of calmality and control over the flight.  
  
The shuttle door slid open.  
  
"Here is your stop," Eki'li'e, the pilot, informed them.  
  
"Uh, this isn't our stop," Ripley said.  
  
"It's your stop and that is what my orders say," Eki'li'e said.  
  
"Someone done and messed up," Ripley said, as the other security officers unbuckled themselves.  
  
"Yep," McCoy said. "that's what my ma said about a three month assignment."  
  
"Hm?" Ripley said, as the two men stood up. "you too?"  
  
"Yes," McCoy said.  
  
"I just got back from recovering from a nearly deadly series of disease," Ripley said. "Took me eight months to get back where I am now," he scanned the man. "you are  a lucky man, doctor."  
  
"So did I!"  Abbigale Blackman said. "except. . ." she lifted her pant leg up to show a prosthetic leg. "I am a double amputee."  
  
"I lost a arm," T'Plass said. The only light brown Vulcan member of the team. "nothing to be proud of."  
  
"Please make sure to close the door upon exiting, please, and thank you," the Eki'li'e said.  
  
"You lost a arm from what?" Ripley asked.  
  
"If I told you then you would refuse to believe me," T'Plass said.  
  
"Try us," McCoy said.  
  
"A horde of Fizzgig's and vulchers," T'Plass said, deadpanning back at the shorter human.  
  
"You are right," McCoy said. "I don't believe you."  
  
"As humans like to say," T'Plass said. "I had informed you of that."  
  
"It's I told ya so," McCoy corrected.  
  
"Where did you hear that kind of butchered shit?" Ripley asked.  
  
"My previous captain," T'Plass said.  
  
"Your captain must be the master of bullshit," Ripley said.

"I cannot confirm or deny it as that is a very personal question," T'Plass said.  
  
"Bet my ass it is," Blackman muttered, going out the door.  
  
T'Plass raised a eyebrow at the departing woman.  
  
"Ignore her," Ensign Fellis said. "and them. . ."  
  
Lieutenant T'Plass slid his duffle bag out as did the rest of the assigned security officers. All fifteen came to the wet, squishy grass. Blackman closed the door behind her then smacked on the side. The shuttle craft began to lift off. McCoy turned in the direction of the lifting shuttle craft. The navigator waved at the officers turned in her direction saying something that was completely lost. It either had to be 'good luck' or 'sorry, orders!'. A uneasy, bad feeling sunk into the guts of the more experienced security officers.  There was a loud but close by boom that made the ground shake. The flares in the distance were even more close. The sixteen men and women were paralyzed, unable to move. A dark, heavy feeling lingered among the group for a few seconds.  
  
"There is a war up ahead," T'Plass said. "recommendation is that we stay out of it."  
  
"Lieutenant T'Plass," Ripley said. "what kind of war is it? Fun and games? Beanie War? Or. . ."  
  
"It is a war, Commander," T'Plass said.  
  
"Let's get to safety then, Mr Legolas," Ripley said.  
  
". . . That is the worst joke I heard," Blackman said. "Legolas isn't black!"

"It is still funny," Ripley said.    
  
"I don't know about that," McCoy said.  
  
T'Plass headed away from the sounds of war with his dufflebag in his arms. There were ten women in the group and six men in total. Blackman, Cindy, Ponner, Polly, Tarriel, Tarren, Janet, Annebelle, Louise, and Jackie. McCoy, T'Plass, Ripley, Fellis, Ryan, and Eric. McCoy looked over his shoulder to see vehicles moving across from the thicket that looked large and massive. They were nearly blending into the scenery if not for the wheels. The ground trembled beneath their feet. The sound of strikes against the ground was prominent until it became a distant echo. They came to a clearing that had dead trees laying around the scenery. Ripley framed the scenery with his hands held out as though he was holding a camera.  
  
"This would make a excellent dam," Ripley. "or a protective fort."  
  
"Mmmmhmm," T'Plass said. "we can make a land based dam. Which is not a fort."  
  
"All right," Ripley said. "that sounds like a good idea."  
  
The other officers unzipped their jackets all the way except for McCoy who stopped the zipper short below the shining, light green vokaya. He rubbed the turned over green gem thinking of Spock. Frankly, one way or another, Spock or another federation approved starship or shuttle craft will come looking for them once finding the error. Spock, would, in all accounts  go after the doctor.  They laid their duffle bags in the center of the clearing then began to collect tree branches. McCoy opted in to help. T'Plass light gray eyes rested on the stone briefly then toward the doctor wearing a monotone mask. The large branches were gathered. Polly used wet, damp mud that felt a lot like clay to fill in the gaps. It took a few hours to do with the help of the other strong women. Then they moved their duffle bags inside the cave like structure. Large bodies of leaves were stacked on to the top of the land based damn. McCoy turned on his glowing, yet still operating padd to see that he no service. But there was a message from Spock that had been sent before the shuttle craft departed earlier. It was another poem in Vulcan.  Ripley was pacing back and forth at the entrance of the structure  glancing up toward the sky. McCoy felt like the next three months were not going to be the best ones that he would ever have. No one was injured. . . for now.  
  
McCoy read the poem.

-  
  
_It has been a long day without thee,_  
_My boyfriend,_  
_I shall tell thee,_  
_How my trend,_  
_Has gone,_  
_Of counting the days off my tongue,_  
_-_  
_We have the strength to carry on,_  
_Until I see thee again,_  
_Taluhk nash-veh k'du_  
_-_  
_Ashayam du nash-veh_

_Taluhk t'nash-veh_

_ish-veh wuh yel,_

_svi' t'nash-veh katra,_  
_\--_  
_I love thee,_  
_My precious,_  
_Is the star,_  
_In my soul_  
_-_  
_It has been a long time my friend,_  
_Since I have seen thee,_  
_Two weeks,_  
_Without thee,_  
_It makes me feel weak,_  
_Knowing the lengthy of time,_  
_Before our next encounter,_  
_-_  
_I can wait three more months,_  
_Nothing less for thee,_  
_Taluhk nash-veh du,_  
_-_  
McCoy stifled back a cry feeling warmth spread from his heart with one hand on the vokaya. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like making McCoy suffer if you can't tell. 
> 
> Edit: I CAN'T BELIEVE I MISTRANSLATED KATRA AS HEART. Corrected to soul. My apologies.


	43. Chapter 43

McCoy's first night on a alien planet was cold.

_Spock, that same time, was sent the last startled photograph that Eleanor took._

McCoy sat at the edge of the dam looking toward the night sky.

_His boyfriend was so damn cute and adorable._

McCoy missed Spock.

_If only he could hold him again._

McCoy gently stroked the vokaya resting on his neck while the shapes of everyone else fast asleep in lumps with their blankets and survival gear providing them a pillow to sleep with. McCoy was the sentry. He saw the haze of smoke lingering in the air. He wanted to go home. That's all he wanted to do. He just wanted to be far away from here and be where he is supposed to be. On a federation colony caring for people. Slowly, but surely, doubt began to sink into the doctor's mind that anyone would find them before the war came here. No, he shouldn't think that way. He was going to tend to the injured and help them.

_Spock smiled to himself stroking the image with his fingers sending affection toward the human._

McCoy shivered,  feeling cold, but the warmth from the link slightly warmed him up as he rubbed his shoulders.

"I hope ya havin' fun out there, Spock," McCoy softly said to himself. "because bein' planet side sucks."

He saw a strange, odd constellation that almost looked like a human face with individual colors blending along each other. It was odd for so many stars that were dying and coming to life. The shape of dark eyebrows, the unmistakenable pair of eyes, the lack of hair, almost pointy ears, and streaks of silver along the shape of ears. It was a remarkable sight. When he blinked again, it was gone, just like that. He could see his breath linger in the air. McCoy wanted to be warm again. He wanted to be around people that he knew. He missed Joanna, Donna, his mother, and being needed in a environment that was not hostile.

He wanted to be away from this scenery.

Somewhere further.

Thousands of miles away.

In the darkness of space with his insufferable Vulcan.

Just to see him again and hear his voice.

His padd was on limited power as the sun was not out.

McCoy wanted to be comforted, if anything, by the presence of someone familiar.

But there was one thought that comforted him.

"Well. . ." McCoy said, as he looked at a single star in particular. "at least I get to practice makin' a flirty poem about missin' ya."

* * *

Eleanor was in one of her zones writing away.  
  
A message bleeped on her comn terminal from Star Fleet.  
  
But it went into the spam inbox.  
  
The text at the beginning read: _We regretfully inform you_ . . .  
  
She never read it as the spam inbox deleted it five hours later while she hummed away with Brock leaned against her leg. She leaned against the chair with her free hand rubbing along the dogs ear. She slowly got out of the chair  then stretched her arms out with a yawn. Eleanor went over to the counter to pick up the dog leash. She paused, feeling like something was missing. Something was not right. Something was not right about her little boy.

Her little boy was a grown man.

He could take care of himself, surely.

"Come along, Brock," Eleanor said, clipping the leash onto the collar. "time for your scheduled walk."

Brock waved his curled tail giving a short, delighted bark.

* * *

T'Plass looked over the quickly growing plants.

"Impressive, Doctor, Ensign," T'Plass said.

McCoy and Polly were watering the plants side by side using well constructed water buckets.

"Thank you," the two said.

McCoy's gray jacket with blue shoulder padds were dangling on a line with several other gray and red uniforms. T'Plass walked away. He approached the men and women who watching over a hill the signs of wars with their binoculars. The sound was loud to the Vulcan's ears.  His hands locked behind his back. Black man handed the binoculars to the Vulcan who joined the group. He could see the small town up ahead was burning with smoke drifting heavily over the limits. There were several tents across from the battle field. There were several dug in trenches with few barbed wire here and there. 

"This is intriguing," T'Plass said. "they are fighting in the early style of the twentieth century." 

"You don't say," Eric said. "a man lost his lower half ten minutes ago. Surely a dead man."

"Well," Ponner said. "people have survived worse."

"Aye," The humans chimed in.

They were all in their black regulation attire with their lower pant legs zipped up for the cool, warm air. There were several trees blocking the view of the site that they  had made for themselves. Some of the group had accepted that this could turn into a permanent living ordeal. There could be houses built in the forest, more like, however, cabins. Some had the idea of it. T'Plass, on the other hand, did not believe this would be permanent He believed that it would pass. Just as the war occurring miles away.  The Vulcan handed back the binocular back to the humans standing back up to his feet. He could not stay here forever as his time was drawing near. In the next four months it would be vital to be rescued or else he shall face death.

Needless to say, T'Plass had no idea what to do with himself.

He sat down along the edge of the entrance and performed a meditation.

"We need more water for the tomatoes," McCoy said.

"Again?" Polly asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We have been waterin' the berries," McCoy said.

"I thought we all ready did that," Polly said.

"Those were the potatoes," McCoy said.

T'Plass gently squeezed the marriage bond to feel his bondmates alarm.

"Oh," Polly said. "I can get the next jug of water."

"Without protection?"  McCoy asked.

"With protection," Polly said. "from one of the men and women."

"I will go!" Annebelle stood up from where she sat. "I would like to kick a wild boar's ass!"

"You mean hog," Eric said.

"Yeah, hog," Annebelle said.

"I can't believe wild hogs get intimated by pairs instead of one person," McCoy complained. "not like ya less intimidatin' with dark eyeliner."

"Do I?" Polly asked.

"ya do," McCoy said.

"Yyyesss!" Polly did a fist pump.

"We are goin' to need new attire when our regulation shirts get torn to shreds," McCoy raised his voice. The women turned their heads in his direction looking back at him with raised eyebrows while the men paid no mind. The other two women headed in the path of the river up ahead. "If anyone has suggestions then I am all ears."

* * *

Christine had been reading up on the news on her padd when a bulletin finally came up regarding a lost shuttle craft from last week. Her eyes slightly widened and she gasped at the familiar name that appeared on the list of fallen forty men and women. Her heart went out to the friends and family of the lost ones. She recomposed herself. Did Spock know? Was he handling the grief well? He had to be handling it the Vulcan way. Seeing him suffering the past few hours was ticking on her.

She didn't like seeing the Vulcan suffer.

Not at all as he was the lieutenant commander, the first officer, of the Enterprise. 

Someone who was taken by high esteem by several of the ensigns newly assigned.

Such as Pavel who had been prodding at Christine regarding the Vulcan's condition every two hours.

"Mr Spock?" Christine said, as the Vulcan slid his science blues down.  
  
"Yes, Nurse?" Spock said, using his left hand to safely zip up the neck zipper.  
  
"Are you all right?" Christine asked, holding her padd looking at him concern. "you have been. . acting. . . odd, lately."  
  
"I am satisfactory," Spock said.  
  
"Did you hear about the Shuttle Craft Robyn being destroyed by a ion storm last week?" Christine asked.  
  
"I do not participate in gossip," Spock said.  
  
Christine grew a long look.  
  
"I . . .  heard . . . he was . . .  aboard," Christine slowly said.  
  
Spock raised an eyebrow then lowered it.  
  
"I do not know who you are referring to," Spock said.  
  
"Doctor McCoy," Christine said.  
  
His right slanted, thin eyebrow vanished beneath his hair bangs.  
  
"Negative," Spock said. "I would have felt the loss . . . And his mother would have sent me a message if that was the case."

"I am sorry you had to learn this way," Christine seemingly floated away with the way she walked from the Vulcan.  
  
M'Benga popped out of thin air along the biobed.  
  
"How is the stomach feeling from having a parasite hooked to it for twelve hours?" M'Beng asked.  
  
"It feels adequate, doctor," Spock said.  
  
"You are discharged, Mr Spock," M'Benga said. "just don't eat something that the natives offer to the captain, again," the man slightly waved his hand. "he isn't entirely happy that you put yourself in harms way."  
  
"It was logical," Spock said.  
  
"Logical to carry  living symbiote that once enslaved a entire civilization for thousands of years?" M'Benga asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"If the captain had carried it then he would not have wished to kill it," Spock replied.  
  
M'Benga paused.  
  
"I suppose he would have done that," M'Benga said. "and done more harm to him than good . . ." he shook his head. "I always thought these symbiotes were nothing more of fiction from Worm Hole X-treme. At least it is contained and being prepared for study," he jotted down on the padd walking away from the Vulcan. "and don't subject yourself as its test subject," He waved his finger. "Doctor's orders."

Spock nodded.  
  
"Understood, Doctor," Spock said.  
  
M'Benga went past the Vulcan.  
  
Spock's hands linked behind his back once getting off the biobed.

He went through the doorway heading toward the exit of Sick Bay. He sent a channel of concern toward McCoy through the link. He waited, walking through the hall, making his way to the rec room. At this time, Jim is preparing for their regular scheduled chess game. Something that had been re-arranged and avoided all together in the past twelve hours to the small, symbiote that grew along his stomach and been distracting him. He waited, patiently, for the returning comfort that his boyfriend was still alive. McCoy's shuttle may have exploded but the link had not been broken. He was still alive. Spock pasted by several female engineers. He tightly gripped his wrist, feeling panic, as it had been two point three minutes since he had sent the reassurance. He made it to the doorway where a wave of strange, comforted but relieved emotions came through the link. Spock relaxed, visibly, but it was a brief sight that could only be seen by watchful eyes. Such as Captain Kirk's eyes. Spock returned relief through the link that he shared with the doctor.  
  
"Ready for this round of chess, Mr Spock?" Jim asked.  
  
"I have been prepared since the preparation to remove the symbiote," Spock said.  
  
"Then we are even," Jim said.

"It appears so," Spock said, coming over to the seat across from the captain that he would normally sit.  
  
"I expect there will not be any more complications regarding the parasite?" Jim said.  
  
"Quarantined and being thoroughly examined by the lab techs,"Spock said. "I am assured they will treat it with the utmost respect and proper procedure," we are shown a sight of several blue shirts fleeing from the flying parasite. One yanking out a phaser from the spare compartment turning it on to stun mode. "I have confidence in them."  
  
Spock lightly tapped on the timer as Jim beamed back at him.  
  
"I have been meaning to ask. . ." Jim said. "did you finish reading the Beethoven novels?"  
  
"Interesting take but the degradiation of the storyline and the humor became too difficult to bare," Spock said. "lost its voice."  
  
"That happens with sequels," Jim said.  
  
"The first three sequels were well written," Spock continued, moving his chess piece. "but  the others. . ." The Vulcan leaned away rubbing his chin. "not in my taste. I gifted it to Mr Scott in the hopes that he enjoys it," We see a shot of Scotty pouring over laughing holding a Beethoven novel.  Spock pressed the top of the machine. "there is a seventy-seven point thirty-seven percent chance that he is enjoying it."  
  
"Your taste is impeccable," Jim said, moving his chess piece. He then tapped on the device.

"As is yours, Jim," Spock said.

"No," Jim said. "you have seen my civvies."

Jim spotted a quirk of the Vulcan's mouth tilting upwards but it was gone as it had appeared.  
  
That gave a smile to the captain.  
  
It earned a raised eyebrow from the Vulcan once Spock tapped on the box.  
  
He was the luckiest man in the galaxy to serve with his childhood best friend in space.  
  
Someone he really cherished more than the Enterprise, more than anything, more than command.  
  
He would do anything for anything if Spock named it.  
  
Jim had learned to avoid the Vulcan's hands in their man years of chess playing. Knowing that his friend had someone to be there for him gave him life.  No one was going to be there when Jim died. He was going to die alone. He knew that throughout his life. Because he was never alone. People were always there to help him get back on his feet. It was a nice thought that there was insurance for Spock when Jim died. Something to get Spock back on his feet. If anything, Jim thought command would be the most probable reason that he would die. Spock would outlive him. Vulcans always did outlive humans. Aging gracefully, remaining twenty for a hundred some years until entering their late hundred seventies. They continued their game of chess. For all he cared, Spock was the only one in his room as their eyes met.  
  
Jim felt something passionate, deep and caring toward the Vulcan.  
  
Was it the way the Vulcan marveled at everything?  
  
Took interest in the slightest of all things such as dungeons and dragons?  
  
Spock was simply stunning.  
  
Was it the way he balanced himself between Vulcan and human?  
  
The way he was expressive?  
  
Catlike, if not.

Was it the way how he defended science and used science on a every day basis? Was it when he saved Jim's life a hundred times over? Was it when he would clearly put himself in the line of danger to retrieve the man? Was it because Spock had intimate knowledge of man's psyche? How they had a long, rare link together where they heard the others thoughts? One where they purposely had learned to have their shields up  so they didn't get distracted by each other. Was  it Spock in general? How he seen the man, years after the academy, with bushy eyebrows and lacking eyeliner looking completely beautiful than anyone he ever laid eyes on? How Spock was unable to attend his Kobyashi Maru Panel due to a important away mission. How Spock and Jim had been apart for years? Only his respect and affection for the Vulcan had grown.

He had seen the Vulcan be molded before his eyes in the past thirty years. He had been there to watch his best friend go off to his rite of passage then wait for him while I-Chaya went after the Vulcan. A Vulcanian man similar to Spock, only older, appeared that day. They were getting close to being strikingly alike. He had see the Vulcan restrain himself emotionally toward him. He had  not been there during the time that the S'Chn T'Gai Household grieved for the loss of their pet. He had no idea how Spock would take the loss of his best friend but with McCoy by his side, it won't be drastic and it is going to be okay. Someone who could comfort him through those walls that the Vulcan had put up. Jim was assured that everyone was going to move on and grieve. Their lives would roughly be the same as it was with him and without him.

But there would not be a man like him seen in the likes of Star Fleet again.  
  
"Check mate," Spock conquered the chess table taking the queen.  
  
Jim looked at the Vulcan in concern.  
  
"What is bothering you?" Jim asked.  
  
"I am being not bothered," Spock said.  
  
"Normally, you do not beat me, Spock," Jim said, shaking his index finger. "something is weighing heavily in your mind."

Spock lowered his head briefly then reorganized the chess table.  
  
"The Shuttle Craft Robyn," Spock said.  
  
Jim stared  back at the Vulcan, blinking, as he leaned back.  
  
"The  SC Robyn?" Jim asked. "The story that the sun published last week?"  
  
"So it is not gossip . . ." Spock said. "but. . . Yes."  
  
"The sun is a liar," Jim said. "and should not be believed. If anything," he paused, looking at Spock, studying him as his brain processed the subject. His brain went through the contents of the file and came up empty. Surely there was something that he was blocking. The only reason Spock would be concerned is if someone he cared abut was--- "someone spread rumors about  a perfectly operating colony and decided to make all the 'forty' new transferee's have a bad day."  
  
"It is illogical to spread fake news," Spock said.  
  
"Some people don't care about others feelings," Jim said, with a shrug.

"Who would do such a painful thing spreading pain and misery like that?" Spock asked. "fake news can lead to violence and unnecessary actions."

"The sun has fake news that doesn't cause harm but most of the time it is tightly conservative, slams women, and tells lies about everything  including spoilers from TV Shows," Jim waved a hand. "I should show you an article regarding the cancellation for the Vulcanian version of Sherlock Holmes."

"That would not be necessary," Spock said. "may we do another session of chess?"

Jim had his arms folded, admiring the Vulcan, with a brightened smile on his face.

"Why of course," Jim leaned forward. "I have paperwork to sign so this will be a good distraction."

"I will pretend I did not hear that," Spock said. "Would you like to start this session?"

"I started last session," Jim said. "your turn."

"As you wish," Spock said. "Jim. . ."

"Yes?" Jim said.

"A shuttle craft cannot hold over forty people," Spock said. 

"They like to exaggerate," Jim beckoned the Vulcan to begin. "it is in your court now."

"Exaggeration can be a cruel weapon," Spock commented, as he began with his first move.


	44. Chapter 44

"Captain," M'Benga approached the captain down the hall.  
  
"Doctor," Jim said. "what brings you to this deck?"  
  
"It's about your friend," M'Benga said. "affections aside, Mr Spock has recently requested off duty time and cited. . . well. . . self doubt," Jim's eyebrows rose up. "do you happen to know what may be the cause of it?"  
  
Jim turned his head away.  
  
"Star Fleet Command did send a reply back," Jim said. "and Lieutenant Uhura was not allowed to hear what they had to say. . ." it made sense for Spock's abrupt departure from the bridge.  
  
"That probably has to do with it," M'Benga said, as Jim he looked down toward the floor in puzzlement. "self-doubt can be a number of things medically and Mr Spock is the healthiest Vulcan Hyrbid I stumbled across."  
  
"I will handle it," Jim flashed his confidant smile back at the doctor.  
  
"Good," M'Benga said. "he refused to tell me what is exactly going on with him medically," Jim shot back a concerned look.  "I am his doctor and he should be open with me regarding what is going on with him," he rolled his eye. "I like Vulcans sometimes they are too secretive for their own good." he walked past the bemused captain.  
  
Jim made his way down the hall, took the turbo lift down to the deck that Spock was assigned on, and made his way out. He passed by Janice and her friends. His eyes lingered on the women for a few seconds before turning it back on where he was going. He came to the pinkish yet orange door where alongside it was Spock's rank and name in federation standard save for S'chn T'gai part. He made his way into the quarters. He could smell the incense of Vulcan. The sand like smell was drifting right into him.  Jim followed the source of the smell to Spock's bedroom.  
  
There, he saw Spock sitting on his meditation mat in black, formal robes.  
  
"Spock,"  Jim called.  
  
The Vulcan opened one eye.  
  
"Is that why you sent in your resignation?" Jim stepped forward. "afraid that you are losing your mind?"  
  
Spock turned his head away from Jim.  
  
"Spock," Jim came forward.  He came to the Vulcan's side sitting on the edge of the bed placing one hand on the Vulcan's shoulder. "talk to me."  
  
"Sixteen people died on the way to the Federation Colony," Spock said. "the pilot and navigators were part of the loss," he briefly opened his eyes. "I cannot feel the loss of the link."  
  
"Then he isn't dead," Jim said, taking his hand off.  
  
Spock looked toward his long time friend.  
  
"I am unsure if I am experiencing a allusion of a link or life coming from it," Spock said.  
  
Jim smiled back, kindly.  
  
"You can be sure by trying a mind meld with your best friend,"  Jim said.  
  
"The weighing of validity and realisim .  . ." Spock said. "I have become disillusioned."  
  
"You are the most clear, coherent officer I ever met," Jim said. "you are not."  
  
"I am contemplating Kolinahr," Spock said.  
  
"Spock, no," Jim said. "if he is dead. . . I don't think your boyfriend would want you to become  a purely, logical being."  
  
Spock looked over toward Jim.  
  
"And you?" Spock asked.  
  
"I just want my friend to be himself," Jim said. "and that would be killing yourself. That's illogical to kill oneself for no reason at all."  
  
"Logic is not the end, but another beginning," Spock said.  
  
Jim knelt down to the  Vulcan's level, his hands placed on the Vulcan's shoulders, and his hazel eyes seeing on through the Vulcan's stoic facade. He could see the distress, the emotionally distraught, and confused Vulcan internally trying to grapple with what he had been told exacyly forty-eight hours ago. He was scared. Jim sent back reassurance through their link and comfort, as a friend, to ease him.  Jim lowered his mental shields to let the Vulcan feel the link.  
  
"Now tell me, Mr Spock," Jim said. "is this link we share real?"  
  
Spock felt the warm, loving radiating link.  
  
"Yes," Spock said.  
  
"Does the link you share with the doctor feel real as mine?" Jim asked.  
  
"Yes," Spock said.  
  
"Then he is not dead," Jim said, sliding his hand back from the Vulcan raising his mental shields.

"Star Fleet says they are dead," Spock said.   
  
"Spock. .  Spock. . . Spock," Jim said, as he stood up. "someone is lying."

"Lying?" Spock asked.

"People still lie in Star Fleet," Jim said. "The lie must be the facts or from star fleet," he shrugged. "I am inclined to believe that it must be the facts."  
   
He headed toward the exit leading to the other half of the quarters.  
  
"Jim--" Spock started.   
  
"Oh, your resignation is denied," Jim turned half way from the door way. "And eventually, we will find your boyfriend," That sounded more of a promise than anything to Spock with their eyes meeting. "and the truth will come out. Will you . . . wait. . . until one of the two is discovered?" his eyes full of pleased.  "If we don't find either then I will accept your resignation the next time you submit it."

"A year," Spock said.

Jim beamed back.

"That is plenty of time," Jim turned away and then exited Spock's quarters.

Spock looked away from the doorway.

"Fascinating," Spock said. "I have T'hy'lara.  . ." he rubbed the sides of his temples lowering his head feeling a headache coming on.

A headache that was not his own.

Spock lowered his hands and focused on the headache to see who it was coming from--- _Leonard._


	45. Chapter 45

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe you all are still reading a suffering!Spones story. 
> 
> Continue reading.

A figure was running in the night flanked by two comrades.  They looked over their shoulders, panting, hearing their hearts beating against their chests. Their legs felt as though that they were burning. Their arms jetting back and forth. The forest was up ahead. One of them fell. A woman came to the man's side lifting him up and fled into the thick, heavy forest with sounds that sent chills down ones spine. The battle field had extended in the past few days closer to the forest than it had been before. Fear was fueling them forward.  Their faces were coated in dark mud with cuts seen here and there into their uniforms wearing helmets that seemed to be dented in not bearing their rounded shape.  
  
The man in the lead out ran them.  
  
Tarriel was leaning against the opening of the dome like dam.  
  
The crack of twiks jerked him awake.  
  
He saw the shape of a figure running toward the facility.  
  
"Oh shit!" Tarriel jerked out the phaser and fired at will.  
  
The fleeing figure vanished in a flare of red before the eyes of the two comrades.  
  
"Phew," Tarriel slipped against the entrance of the cave.  
  
The two figures ducked into the forest.  
  
"Sssshhh!" McCoy said. He didn't sound too well from the inside of the center.  "Can't ya be quiet for petes sake?"  
  
"Yes," Tarriel said, in a low voice. "go back to sleep, doctor."  
  
The doctor grumbled turning over onto the small make shift bed.

* * *

 "Nice uniform, doctor!" Ponner whistled.  
  
McCoy strutted out of the dam like cavern placing his hands on his hip while in a sleeveless light brown-grayish buttoned shirt and light brown but grayish pants. His uniform was boxed up in the duffle bag. His buttoned up shirt stopped below the neckline where underneath it was the vokaya. He had been chipping away at his fingernails keeping them well trimmed. Abiding by the prime directive was difficult but stealing uniforms was easy enough. T'Plass was largely ignored by the men and women along the battlefield as a fellow officer not paying any mind to the Vulcan's characteristics. McCoy had a bad headache from listening to the birds. And his nose felt stuffy.

McCoy had the goddamn cold with no medical supplies.

"Not even a nice uniform," McCoy said.

"You look fine," Ponner reassured the doctor.    
  
"If anything, Star Fleet uniform looks better on you," Polly agreed.  
  
"Uh huh," Blackman agreed.  
  
"You have a girly figure but otherwise you look good," Tarren said.  
  
"Ppph," McCoy said. "I am taking a shit."  
  
Ripley and the other security officers were installing a wall around their facility. McCoy went in the opposite direction into the forest to find the bush that he normally used. He came to a stop when in the deep section of the forest. He zipped down his pants then let it loose. The doctor sighed in relief while whistling to himself. He bounced on his tips of his toes while whistling. A hand gently placed onto the man's shoulder. The doctor ripped off a piece of leaf then cleaned off the shaft pardoning himself from whoever had touched him. His headache was partially on his mind. The strong, firm hand let go of the doctor's shoulder. He turned around to see a purple woman with dark hair in a uniform similar to himself holding a weapon that he had seen long ago from Worm Hole X-Treme. McCoy held his hands up.  
  
"Hello, there," McCoy said. "ya hurt?"  
  
The purple woman spoke back, quickly, in a language that the doctor had lost.  
  
"That sounds like . . . something ancient. . ." McCoy said. "a lost language," he studied her. "me," he gestured to himself. "two" he held his two fingers up. "speak," she aimed her zinger at his hands. He slowly went over to the universal translator then clicked on it. "I am a doctor, ma'am."  
  
She lowered her weapon.  
  
"You are in the other sides uniform," the purple woman said.  
  
"The only thin' we can find around here,"  McCoy said.  
  
"You are not from this planet," the purple woman said.  
  
The doctor rolled an eye.  
  
"That is a apparent," McCoy said.  
  
"Where do you get skin like that?" The purple woman asked.  
  
"Oh?" McCoy looked down toward his tanned hands. "I like sun tans."  
  
"Sun tans. . ." The purple woman furrowed her eyebrows.  
  
"It can cause skin cancer but it is all good if it is moderated," McCoy said. He stepped forward toward her looking at her in concern lowering his hands slightly.  "do ya need help?" she lowered her zinger to her side looking at his innocent baby blue eyes. "I can't do much but I can try to help with my medical knowledge."  
  
"Will you turn us in?" the purple woman asked.  
  
"No," McCoy said. "we do not intend to be caught. We are waitin' for our ride to come pick us up."  
  
McCoy sneezed earning a step back.  
  
"Are you contagious?" the purple woman asked.  
  
"It's a bad cold," McCoy said.  
  
"Cold," the purple woman said. "then I am immune to it."

"Are ya hurt?" McCoy asked, stepping forward.  
  
"Yes, and no," the purple woman said. "I have another. My comrade."  
  
"I have to get back to camp and tell the others," McCoy said. "our designated leader is a commander."  
  
"You in war too?" the purple woman asked.  
  
"No," McCoy said. "it's. . ." he stared back at her. "hard to explain. . ."  
  
"Try then," the purple woman said.  
  
"I am part of a peaceful exploring military like agency that works best with unity and peace," McCoy said. "I live in a utopia world where there is no racism or sexism. No corruption, greed, and cover ups."  
  
"How do you know there is not?" the purple woman asked.  
  
"There hasn't been a mutiny against a captain for years," McCoy said. "lead me to the hide out."  
  
She lower her zinger.  
  
"Follow me," the purple woman said.

"Do ya have a name?" McCoy said, earning a head turn from the purple woman. "I don't need to call ya the purple woman or purple woman?"  
  
"My name will not mean anything or have value," the purple woman said.  
  
"All names have some weight to it," McCoy said. "someone has to care."  
  
"You do not need to care," the purple woman said.  
  
"I am a doctor and I need to know the name---" the doctor sneezed. "of my patients."  
  
"May the gods of my planet bless you," the purple woman said.  
  
"And it it makes a nice--" the doctor sneezed again into the forearm. "personal touch."  
  
"Is there a south on your planet?" the purple woman said.  
  
"Yes," McCoy said.  
  
"Do they all fight against the north to be recognized as its own nation?" the purple woman asked.  
  
"Nah, that is Texas," McCoy said. "still hasn't."  
  
"Interesting," The purple woman said.  
  
McCoy noticed the purple woman was limping yet walking on her good leg. The zinger was designed like a cobra that could be held while being green with red glass like oval shapes at the head section. McCoy felt around the side of his head feeling the light head ache coming back. He sneezed into  his forearm. He felt tired. He could stand for a few more minutes before hitting the hay. There was a small make shift tent with a field of leaves on the grass floor and a small series of leaves above. There was a purple man leaned against the tree bark covering the wide of his waist in a stained variation of the uniform the doctor was in. He knelt down to the side of the patient.  
  
"You brought an alien," the purple man said, holding his hand up sliding away from the human.  
  
"He can help you," the purple woman said.  
  
"He might be one of them!" the purple man said. "he might be able to detect. . " the alien coughed. "what we lack."  
  
"We managed to escape without them knowing," the purple woman said.  
  
"They killed  Gorsuch," the purple man said.  
  
"He hasn't killed me," the purple woman said. "let him be a doctor."  
  
The purple man's eye directed toward the human.  
  
"If you rat us out I will tear you in half," the purple man said.  
  
"I wouldn't think of it,"  McCoy said, then lifted the part of the man's shirt up. He saw the blood gently spilling out of the wound. The doctor looked over toward the purple woman. "what kind of artillery do ya get shot at in?"  
  
"Pistols," the purple woman said. "spears, zingers, and guns.  Cannons. . ."  
  
He turned in the direction of the purple man.  
  
"How does the item feel?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Rounded," the purple man said.

The doctor's eyes light up.  
  
"Bullet!" McCoy said, cheerfully.  
  
They raised their eyebrows.  
  
"What's so good about that?" the purple man asked.  
  
"Excuse me," McCoy said. He sneezed into his forearm.  
  
"May the gods bless you," the purple man said.  
  
"I am just excited because I can help ya with that," McCoy explained. "now, ma'am, sir, I do not have medical supplies so ya need to hold on to each other and---ma'am, get me a bunch of leaves," the purple woman yanked a large tree branch off the side of a tree trunk. The Doctor slipped off several pieces of leaves. "hold his hand,"  the purple woman came to the side of her colleague and gripped his hand. "and don't let go."  
  
The doctor opened the wound and carefully wiped away the blood coming out.  He used his two fingers to keep the wound open and carefully felt around for the bullet. He felt three. The hard, rounded surface. His free fingers clutched around the first set. He carefully slid his hand out and dumped the first bullet to the grass. He reached his hand in feeling fro the last two bullets. He found one as the purple man tightly gripped onto his colleagues hand with a groan letting tears come down his cheeks. The second bullet fell out. McCoy sneezed his other forearm that wasn't covered in blood. The doctor steadied himself focusing his eyes on the dark purple blood resting on his hands. The doctor returned his hand in feeling for the hard surface. His vision somewhat blurred making his heart quick. And his headache was bothersome. But remarkably, regardless of it, he felt around the squishy intestines  as the grip became tightened. He moved his hand to the left. McCoy's fingers  grasped on a hard, yet cold surface. His fingers clasped around the item then slowly took his hand out. He let the final bullet fall to the grass.

"Got any strin'?" McCoy asked.  
  
"I do," the purple woman said, with a nod.  
  
"Good, hand me it," The doctor wiped the blood off with the series of leaves.  
  
The purple woman yanked off a long, tight thread from her cuff link.  
  
"Here," the purple woman said.  
  
"This will do," McCoy said, then he picked up a sharp end of a small twig then wrapped the thread around it. It was small, yet sharp like a pin but thin enough to make its way through the skin. The doctor carefully dived the small twig in with the loose thread acting as a bind to keep it together. He looked up toward the woman and the man then back toward the injury. He came to the edge of the injury. He slowly and carefully unwrapped the tread around the ejected stick and tied the thread into a knot. The doctor cleaned up the excess blood from the operation to show the suture was holding up. "and here ya go," he looked toward the man. "ya need to be restin' for a few days before walkin' with that injury. Don't want it to bust."  
  
"My colleague has perfect memory," the purple man said. "She will fix it."  
  
"And ya will be dead," McCoy said. "make him a make shift bed, ma'am, usin' anythin' as the wheels."  
  
"I will make sure to do that," the purple woman said.

McCoy stood up once lowering the uniform down to the resting patient.  
  
"I wish ya the best of luck gettin' out of here," McCoy said.  
  
"We will manage," the purple man said.  "our people will find you. . . and it won't be a pretty take down."  
  
"They will stun you first," the purple woman said. "then shoot you twice to kill you, and if they are really pissed they will fire at you again and you will vanish from off the face of our planet leaving not a trace of anything behind."  
  
"That's a pleasant way to go," McCoy said.  
  
"I assure you, it is not pleasant for those who like to bury family," the purple man said.

McCoy nodded.  
  
"As people from a far away planet say," McCoy started, his hands having difficulty falling into shape. His hand fell behind his back. "Live lon' and prosper."  
  
McCoy turned away then returned in the direction of the path that he had strayed from.  The doctor sneezed into his forearm once far from the two people. He had to wash his filthy hands. He followed the usual path that lead to the river. A path that had more vegetation than the others that were less. He wiped the filth off his soft, small agile hands. He could hear the footsteps of one member behind his back. McCoy sighed. Ripley found  out that he had helped the natives. The doctor sighed, turning in the direction of the person behind him beginning to apologize only to see a greenish gray zinger and a blast of green light striking him knocking the doctor out to the floor.

T'Plass's attention arose once the sound of the doctor had stopped.  
  
"Commander," T'Plass said.  
  
Ripley stood up from the wall construction.  
  
"Yes, Lieutenant?" Ripley asked.  
  
"I cannot hear the doctor,"  T'Plass said.  "I believe it is time we flee."  
  
"Ensigns, Lieutenants," Ripley said. "get what you can, we are moving out!"  
  
"Sir, what about the wall?" Blackman asked.  
  
"Turn it into a booby trap," Ripley said.  
  
"But we need a doctor--" Eric started.  
  
"And we need to be on a federation colony," Ripley said. "we can't have everything that we want!"  
  
The man went into the inside of the dam earning concerned looks from the others.  
  
The commander was right, they could not have everything they wanted.  
  
Quickly, they packed what they could deserting the scenery. Most of the growing vegetation was taken except for a few that was hard to pull out. McCoy's duffle bag was the only thing behind inside the facility. Several pairs of mandatory dark, black boots entered the scenery approaching the duffle bag. The duffle bag was picked up and taken out of the wide, dome like house.  A fire was ignited. It didn't take long for the flames to engulf the entire construction. Polly turned away from the group to see the flames reaching the sky. It was a hard, difficult day finding a new place to call home. They kept walking further and further taking twists and turns through the darker, threatening forest until they came to a hospital, safe variation.  
  
It was pitch black.  
  
"I hope they don't torture the doctor," Ponner said.  
  
"Who knows?" Fellis said, as he hammered in the support beam to the ground. "He might just fair well and adapt to it."  
  
"And escape?" Polly asked.  
  
"The doctor has survived worse," T'Plass replied.  
  
The eyes of the security officers went onto their commanding officer who was looking off in the direction of where the smoke had been going.  
  
"I just hope that he is not being forced to suffer with the cold," Ryan said.  
  
"He probably isn't," Jackie said. "they might be able to treat it with their medicine."  
  
"If their medicine is good at all to humans," Cindy said.  Eric and Blackman came back with more wood. "he is probably doing better than we are!"

* * *

There was bright light before the doctor that was moving then dull colors. Two purple bodies of mass reached forward and lunged him out of the entrapment. His vision was not good. His vision returned to normal as he could see shades of dark gray and yellow. He didn't feel as though he had a cold anymore. His eyes adjusted to the lighting that nearly blinded his eyes looking around the scenery to see humanoid beings with purple skin and odd hair colors.  He could feel a tight grip on his shoulders and his legs dragging behind him.  He could feel the weight of the necklace against his chest.  
  
"Where am I?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Shut your ass," the purple soldiers said.  
  
The doors slid open before the doctor.  McCoy was dragged in where he was seated into a cold, cushion less chair in front of a desk. There was a purple bald man glaring back at the doctor with glowing yellow eyes. McCoy sent fear back through the link hearing his heart race as his mind raced. This was not normal. Everyone else had normal eye colors. The man dismissed the two security officers.  McCoy's hands were bound by a metal cuff held tightly around his wrist. There were a pair of white dressed women with their hands locked behind their back standing between a cylinder cooler that was white with smoke drifting out of the top. There was chairs seen here and there including couches. The tall, purple man stood up slipping on a metal yet golden device.  
  
"This will go smoothly," the purple leader said.  "if you tell me where the deserters are."  
  
"I have no idea," McCoy said. "but due to feelin' better. . . I am obligated to thank ya for that---and what are you? Ya sound like one of those cliche villains from Worm-Hole X-Treme," the man tilted his head. "and the whole eye glowin' thin'. . ." the purple leader's eyes grew wide. "how old are ya?"  
  
"Where! ARE! THEY?" the purple leader demanded.  
  
"I don't know!" McCoy said, throwing his cuff hands up. "Not like I mapped the damn area!"

The purple leader frowned.  
  
"I will make you tell me," the purple leader said, raising his hand up.  
  
The center jetted to life with a golden center that was inches away from the doctor. .  
  
McCoy's eyes widened.  
  
"Good god," McCoy said. "the stories about SG-1 are true. Every single one."

"They succeeded in getting the others but not me," the purple leader said.  
  
McCoy was struck with pain in his head and the feeling of someone rummaging around in a newly formed link. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he screamed in agony. His legs were bound together in what felt like cuffs, the same one that his wrists were bound in, and the chair kept him centered leaning forward screaming. It felt like someone was scratching the insde of his head. He clutched onto his happy place picturing himself somewhere better. Over the hill. He could see his surroundings becoming mere remainments of what they had been before.McCoy was on his knees with his hands on the dead grass.

The doctor wept into his hands hearing the ground tremble beneath his feet. The red link emitting from his chest had moved to his pinkie finger. The mountains in the distance had fallen collapsing down causing an avalanche. He saw his childhood home be destroyed before his eyes. The sky turned a shade of dark. His happy place was being destroyed before his minds eye. He felt so alone. He looked down toward the small circle of grass.  The memory of the path that he was taken to. McCoy yanked the memory out, meeting the purple people, and tore it into pieces. The dead grass turned into a dark, shallow shade of dried grass. He was going to buy them time if it costed  his life. His shoulders felt like they were being weighted down. He did not want to be responsible for the loss of others. So be it that he does not remember why he was brought here.  He would rather lose himself than lose a patient.  
  
His hands trembled.  
  
_I am sorry, Spock,_ McCoy apologized tightly gripping the link sending back his feelings.  
  
McCoy felt tears streaking down his cheek as the destruction came forward.  
  
_It's a shame that I can't spare ya this_ , McCoy lemated clearing his throat.  
  
The doctor stood up, without fear on the edge of the cliff, and faced the wreck that was headed his way.  
  
_Over my goddamn dead, cold bones_ , McCoy thought, _that's who I am. Bones. I AM BONES!_  
  
The purple leader's hand detracted once the loud, destructive destruction had taken its toll. The doctor's cheeks were stained by the tears. McCoy lowered his head, his eyes closed, while his head was throbbing. Our view panned over to show Spock bolting up from bed feeling agony through the link. He went over to the meditation mat and began to analyze what he had experienced. The emotion of lingering guilt, pity, sympathy,regret, and apologetic all at once.  He was perplexed on what his  boyfriend was going through. Our view panned over to the scene with McCoy  was gaining his breath. The purple snapped his fingers. The two people in white came over to the doctor  lifting hm up. The second white dressed person unhooked both cuffs.

"A  man said one man's trash becomes another man's treasure," the purple man said, taking the gloves off.

McCoy was unable to speak with the sheer agony in his head.

"Don't you agree?" the purple man asked.

McCoy groaned.

"I thought you would," the purple man said, coming over to his desk. "and you are going to be part of this little, pesky war I am having with the natives."

McCoy glared in the direction of the purple man feeling tears continuing down his cheeks. There was unspeakable horror, yet terror on his face that it shouldn't be seen on a human. The white dressed technicians opened the cylinder object. There was a feeling of comfort sinking through the link as his mind was blaring a loud, hysterical siren in pain and alarm.  He was going to pay. This man was going to pay for doing this to him. But why was the purple leader doing this to him? He was searching for someone. Someone he likely tended to and was likely purple as the man was.  McCoy saw the top to the cylinder was rounded with a support structure to the side. He was too weak to protest.

The second technician lifted out a small, yet long serpent that was dark gray.

"Say hello to your little, new friend," the purple man said, as the mental pain was overwhelming and the headache had returned.

The serpent vanished below his line of sight.

Now where did it go--

There was a sudden, sharp pain from his wind pipes like something had entered it. Something tore through him and wrapped itself around his spine. A strange, higher power coursed through his veins. Then it was like he was not in control.  Terror struck through the doctor. He wanted to smack whatever was inside out of him by banging himself against the wall until something had knocked it off. The stories about SG-1 came to mind. The legendary teams that went out and saved the world not once but many times over. The teams that had become forgotten. If the stories about the symbiotes were true. That the only way to get rid of them is the same device that he had seen, dying of old age, or sacrificing themselves to save the other. The technicians unbound his hands.

"How is it, old friend?" the purple man said.

"I like this body," came a different voice from the doctor. "very. . very. . . very comfortable."

"Better than the last," the purple man smiled. "would you prefer to be among your new people fighting for our cause or would you rather . . ." he paused. "explore this planet properly then join me?"

"I rather see this planet in whole, old friend," the voice didn't sound like his. "what planet are we on, anyway?"

"I call it Dent-A," the purple man said, then nodded toward the technicians. The technicians took away the machine and left the room. He looked toward the man. "the humans destroyed the system lords but not the followers. Colonel O'Neill and his team can not stop us now."

"We are only lucky that we never faced them," McCoy dubbed this symbiote The Serpent.

"Indeed," The purple man said, nodding.

"This man has a link," the serpent said.

"Hm?" the purple leader asked. "What do you mean?"

"He is bound to another," the serpent said.

"Then break it," the purple leader said.

"If I do it improperly then I will break my host and likely lose him," the serpent said. "I have a feeling that is the only thing keeping him alive. He could just fall apart by the misery he is in," the serpent glared at the muscular man. "I told you I wanted a perfectly whole host," anger flared from the symbiote. "How many times have I told you not to break a host for me!"

"Two hundred thirty times," the purple leader said.

"Let me break it!" the serpent demanded. "MY WAY!"

"It had to be done," the purple leader said, with a wave of his hand. "to punish him for evading a question. I lost three perfectly good soldiers."

"One is better than three with me," the serpent said.

"Don't exaggerate yourself," the purple leader said. McCoy was cowering in what safe corner there was for his mind covered in bruises and scrapes and cuts. It looked like someone had broken him. He had messy hair. His eyes looked like two pools of dismay and there was not a flicker of optimisim. The purple leader leaned forward watching his friend rubbing the side of his temple. "what is wrong?"

"This one has a defect," the serpent grumbled.

"Well, fix it," the purple leader said.

"It will take time, old friend," the serpent said. "lots of it. I will not be using the esophagus in the mean time."

"You rather sleep like one of them?" the purple leader asked. A flicker of hope stirred in the doctor as a smile grew on his face. The serpent was in his territory and his body was going to make it hell for him to stay. Being inside a McCoy was never the right choice for a alien parasite.

"It's just for a few weeks, give or take," the serpent said. "I will be part of the battle field and this will not stop me."

 _In a pigs eye,_ McCoy thought through his [misery.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rmt8-H3Lyys)

"Good," the purple man said.

"Did you take the time to ask if there were others like him?" the serpent asked.

". . . No," the purple man said, meekly.

"I will be your killer one day," the serpent said. "and I will find out for myself," the serpent shook his finger at the purple man who appeared to be in the mix of bemusement and insult. "You will not break them."

"I will not," the purple man said.

"We have two hundred years to catch up with," the serpent said. "only the stars know what we are up against," McCoy was filled with hope in his suffering that channeled through his entire being and  the link with Spock. His baby blue eyes lit up before the purple man's sight. "we have no idea how to fight against them."

"They likely have guns," the purple man said. "nothing has changed. Not even their method of transport. Or their ways of defense, likely still stubborn as ever, but that will be easy to eliminate."

McCoy was fill with rage and insult that he reached forward taking the hold over his body.

"WHY YOU OVERGROWN ARROGANT, SENTIENT AND POWERFUL VILLAIN CLICHE SNAKE!" McCoy roared. 

McCoy's last strength was sapped away as he kept back the knowledge regarding otherwise. That was impressive. He just managed to flip off the person who had purposely destroyed his mind and left him powerless. He had knowledge on his side and he wasn't going to let it fall into his hands. He just flipped off Cthulhu, essentially. A smack of anger sent him to his side within his mind palace with books. The doctor groaned. But there was hope. And he was going to make it. He was going to last. And these snakes were not going to last. 

McCoy tightly gripped the link with Spock sending back hopeful affection keeping back the misery.

 _I will be waitin' for ya_ , McCoy said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theoretically, this takes place in the reality of the Galaxy Quest movie which exists in the Stargate SG-1 reality which is our reality. Sorry, folks, SG-1 just wormed its way inside this story. *shrug*


	46. Chapter 46

The barracks were long and wide.  
  
There were cots stacked on top each other  by pieces of drilled in wood and a ladder. The serpent sensed the others like him inside the long, gray cold unforgiving room that had candles lit in some corners of the room on counters between the bed. McCoy was gaining his strength, repairing his happy place bit by bit,  with his bare hands and tools. The mountains were daunting and could never be repaired. He traced along the memory of his neighbors house. He looked over occassionally to see what was going on by the outside. He wasn't going to let what happened to him define himself.  The serpent was having a difficult time dealing with the headache.  
  
It disgusted McCoy that someone was using his body to harm others.  
  
His anger was rising by the minute.  
  
His strength was returning minute by minute.  
  
The bruises on his skin was fading.  
  
McCoy stopped, considering, all the other houses that needed to be reconstructed in his minds eye. The one that he had created in his imagination to get away from the noise and chaos. The silence from up ahead. He looked over to see the hill where McCoy and Spock had cuddled. He felt anger. Fury. His hands clenched into fists. A perfectly good memory ruined. McCoy and Spock will make new ones. He looked up ahead to see in the middle of the road was a growing lake. McCoy approached it. It was something different that he hadn't made. He drifted his hand int the pool of water to feel warmth. A smile grew on his face. McCoy recognized the feeling. His embodiment of hope had taken on a figure. The doctor rolled his trousers up then dipped his legs into the water. The smooth, warm liquid resting along his leg filling him with delight.  
  
Soon as McCoy finished repairing what had been destroyed, he was going to fight for his body.  
  
The power to control his body.  
  
His one chance escape and help others not kill them.  
  
He was going to help them in any way that he could.  
  
That part was clear.  
  
But he had little time before the serpent antagonized him for information regarding humanity's advancements.  
  
The serpent, however, was currently busy trying to heal the headache.

It became clear that everything was changing for himself, in his happy place, that nothing was going to be same. McCoy sighed, lowering his head. Getting rid of the scrap metal and rock material was going to be difficult. McCoy thought back to the mind melds that he shared with Spock. The way that Spock saw Jim. The way Spock saw McCoy. And how McCoy saw Spock. He broke apart the clouds letting in the rays of sun landing onto the sparkling if not glittering water. He turned the pavement into a body of colorful rocks. He turned his attention toward the destroyed series of apartments.  
  
"This would make a great amazon forest or a great desert," McCoy said, warmly.

* * *

 For the past few days, there was a endless amount of hope channeling through the link that Spock shared with McCoy. It was odd, given that, McCoy hardly used it at all. It  felt surreal but also made Spock feel different. Like he could go through the walls, like it was plausible to fly in the air without a force beneath his feet or around his shoulders. It was like he was standing in a light full of what Jim walked in every day. Until today, there was suffering. Agony. That wasn't part of the link. It was what his boyfriend was experiencing. The suffering that he felt earlier had returned.  
  
Spock raised his shields up to prevent himself from being personally effected by the pure, unadulterated suffering. He was sitting on the chair rubbing the side of his forehead. He was getting himself a headache because from trying to focus on the link and make it grow stronger. Jim was frowning, looking at the view screen, where a blue but somewhat green individual was standing. Spock turned in the direction of the captain and the view screen---wait, that was a federation approved shuttle craft.  
  
 "My name is Kelien Sanchallus," Sanchallus said. "you must help my people, whatever you are, please."  
  
 "I am Captain James Tiberius Kirk of the USS Enterprise," Jim said. "Where did you get a shuttle craft from?"  
  
". . I rebuilt it by hand," Sanchallus said. "I come from the planet,  Hent-D, that neighbors Dent-A," she cleared her throat. "I. . I. . I. . .  Don't know what our gods want," she closed her eyes as tears brimmed along her eyelashes. Her eyelashes parted to show bright green tearful eyes. They ask for too much," she cleared her throat again. "are you what they call. . . Hooo-mans? I have trained myself to speak in your language due to the audio tapes."

Jim looked over in the direction of Spock who seemed to be skeptical then back toward Sanchallus.  
  
"What is the name of the shuttle craft you pieced together?" Jim asked.  
  
"Willow," Sanchallus said. "once every ten years a shuttle craft crash lands on my planet. . . and there are either survivors or none at all to save. Animals scavenge their remains. We have preserved several intact uniforms and the star fleet badges. .  . In fact, everything is in the natural history of aliens."  
  
"Starting from when?" Jim asked.  
  
"Well, I don't know," Sanchallus said. "A hundred? Fifty? Forty? Thirty years?" the woman shrugged. "Some of the remains had prosthetic parts."  
  
"Has your civilization achieved  warp drive?" Jim asked.  
  
"We don't call it that," Sanchallus said. "we call it Worp Factor."

"Then why are you using a shuttle craft?" Jim asked.  
  
"Our gods have returned and they are ruining our planet," Sanchallus said. "space flight has been cut off, rights are being restricted, air pollution rules have been relaxed, and there are. . ." her voice trembled leaning forward with one hand cupping the side of her face. She was in a bright colorful attire with a top that had shoulder straps laid onto her shoulders and bright pink  bell bottoms. Her hair was a dark shade of green curls that rested on her shoulders. She steadied herself regaining her composure. "smog has returned to our cities, our highways, and global warming has caused the sinking of several states."

"Would you prefer continuing this conversation aboard my ship?" Jim asked.  
  
"If this means you can help us then I will . . ." Sanchallus said, with a nod.  
  
"I will see you aboard, Miss Sanchallus," Jim said. "Kirk out."  
  
The view screen turned to black.  
  
They could see the little, gray shuttle craft that appeared to have been welded together with sealed in windows. Hikaru could see the additions that were not Star Fleet authorized such as the finn on the top with two holes on the center near the top. There were scars that made it seem as though the shuttle craft had been through hell. Jim had a feeling that these 'gods' were nothing more than machine or an entity. Spock stood up from his station as Jim gave the order to take the shuttle craft in by tractor beam then contacted the transporter room to prepare for a beam up. The captain stood up from his station then went over to Nyota placing a hand on the woman's shoulder and whispered something to her that sounded a lot like 'Rain check on the tennis match in the holodeck?'. Spock stood up from his station placing his hand along his station to keep him standing still.  
  
"Yes, Captain," Nyota said.  
  
Jim took his hand off her shoulder with a kind smile dawn onto her figure.

Spock made his way into the turbo lift along Jim's side.  
  
"Mr Spock?" Jim asked, his head turned toward the Vulcan. They gripped the levelers. "Comments?"  
  
"They do not dress well," Spock said. "and clearly a crime on fashion."  
  
"Something is bothering you," Jim said, alarmed.  
  
"Part of me contemplating if the tumor has returned and he is in a great deal of suffering," Spock said. "or. . ."  
  
Jim placed a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder sending back concern mixed with warmth and comfort lowering his shields down.

"Do you need time off?" Jim asked.  
  
"Negative," Spock said. "I need him."

Spock felt purely naked, standing there, talking about his need for the doctor. A blush grew on the Vulcan's cheeks. He felt shame. That was not the Vulcan way to publicly talk about emotion. However, they were alone together in private. It was illogical to feel shame. Jim's gentle, hazel compassionate eyes were laid on the Vulcan seeing sympathy for the Vulcan. Was Spock being a little too open with the developing link with the doctor? Was he being too open regarding what he was going through with his childhood friend? The Vulcan cleared his throat as the turbo lift moved.

He was terrified.

Years of training to control his emotions.  
  
Jim slid his hand back raising his shields looking back at the Vulcan.  
  
"I have a gut feeling telling me that we may get a lead on the doctor's whereabouts," Jim said.

Spock raised a slanted, dark thin eyebrow.

"The last time you mentioned gut feeling, Jim, we were stuck on the side of the road with our motorcycles in the ditch and we were covered in scrapes," Spock reminded Jim. "I am not counting the times you have mentioned it on recent away missions."

"Trust me on this," Jim said, then he held his free hand up. "I admit that I was wrong then. . . but I am not wrong now."

The turbo lift doors opened.  
  
"I believe in your command," Spock said.  
  
Jim let go of the leveler giving the Vulcan back heart eyes.

"I believe in your logic," Jim replied, with a warm smile.  
  
The two men came out of the turbo lift side by side rounding about the corner. Spock used the wall as his guidance feeling the mental, hot link brimming with severe agony like someone was digging into him. Jim stopped in his tracks steadying the Vulcan to his feet. The pain died down. It felt like the pain was not physical but mentally. Like fingers digging  into his mind with a thirst for knowledge and absorption. Spock steadied onto his feet as the pain subsided. The agony went down to a acceptable level that he could walk with. Spock could feel the man's tender, tight caring shoulder grab with one hand on his right male breast. The grip loosened against his uniform. Spock briefly closed his eyes. There were security officers passing by the two men.  
  
"Thank you, Captain," Spock said.  
  
"Sure you don't need time for yourself?" Jim asked.  
  
"I am certain," Spock said, as Jim slowly let go of the man's shoulder. "I will deal with this in meditation."  
  
"Long as you can function as a officer," Jim said, nodding his head in understanding.

The two men made their way down the hall headed in the direction of the transporter room side by side.

* * *

The serpent fought with McCoy on the battle field.

The question over who should control the body.

" _Run, now!_ " was often what the good doctor managed to say. Startling the soldiers in a normal voice.

The human had regained his strength while going toe to toe with the serpent.  
  
The opposing army was in light gray uniforms with splotches of blue and better constructed helmets that shielded their faces. They had stuffy uniforms similar to the ones worn on Starbases. The grip on the zinger tightened. Suddenly, the zinger was slowly turning in the direction of the serpent. His eyes slowly widened while a smile grew on the side of his face. That was the one hundred twenty-third time that week that it was being turned in his direction. He took out another zinger then fired at the other soldier. The soldier collapsed to the floor.  The serpent smiled. Another of the enemy forces was being taken down. The headache was being worked on during times of resting.

The human informed him that the thing giving him a headache was everything and anything, including the symbiote.

That didn't fly to the serpent.  
  
The only way to fix this odd headache entirely was to devote all his energy upon it.  
  
Which would be suicidal and a dumb move.  
  
The serpent could learn to live with what he had made himself home in.  
  
The human was being too stubborn.  
  
Refused to break on whether or not there were others through the pain that was inflicted.  
  
The serpent noticed his legs refused to move.  
  
The human was stubborn. Too. Damn. Stubborn. His old friend had beat him to a pulp. But he came back together with his mind getting stronger and being determined on getting his body back. The serpent admire that. The serpent rolled an eye. It was slowly getting dark. They were forcing the natives into the forest to die a slow, but painful death. They had assimilated natives among their ranks in the past few days with the offer of a extended life. Bringing the Goa'uld, the Jaffa, and the System Lords back into the quadrant was not going to be an easy task. These people were proving the point that his colleague had been making about returning to their former, yet old glory.  His hands refused to obey him to lower the weapons. His eyes slightly widened.  
  
A jet of electrical blue surge struck him knocking him out to the ground.

The host was out laid on the dirt.

But not the symbiote.  
  
He had to get rid of the damn headache.  It was getting him a genetic pain in the mouth. A bitter reminder how humans could easily get headaches from annoyances. The serpent couldn't live this way. He was all ready in the man's brain after having slithered out of his old skin.  It was a calculated risk that he would not survive getting of a annoyance and the chances of survival were limited. The serpent took the risk. The serpent used its strength and power to eliminate what was causing the headache. Slowly, but surely, the serpent lost its strength and power. It began to die.  
  
How poetic.  
  
It began to lose consciousness.  
  
How poetic that its own hosts problem killed it.  
  
It could have jetted out and searched for another---the chances of death were highly likely.  
  
In a environment in a war the chances of survival were remote.  
  
The human won the battle over his body.

Humans didn't always need Colonel O'Neill and SG-1 to come running to their rescue.

* * *

McCoy's baby blue eyes opened hearing the sounds of gun fighting.

 _Spock,_ McCoy thought feeling control of his body, _I did it_. A smile grew on the doctor's face. _JOANNA, MA, DONNA, I DID IT!_  
  
The ground trembled beneath his body.  
  
The doctor leaned forward rubbing the back of his head feeling the lack of a headache that was painful.  McCoy had plenty of experiences with headaches but nothing could be compared to these headaches that lingered around. McCoy got up looking over the trenches to see that it was night fall. There were figures fleeing the shot of zingers. McCoy squinted his eyes at the direction of a native in the brownish, grayish uniform. He click the trigger sending the enemy down to the floor. If he was going to use the zinger then he would knock them out. Every single one. He did not kill. He was Doctor Leonard Horatio "Bones" McCoy. He leaped over the trench skidding down using the back of his heels as guidance feeling utter joy.  
  
He was going to make it.  
  
He was going to make it!  
  
He fired at the upcoming enemy  before they could fire at the good willing natives. Their eyes met. _He must be a commander_ , the doctor figured, seeing others coming into view. They were shouting in a language that he couldn't catch. One that he lacked. He didn't have his universal translator on his person. McCoy went past them as they went past him over the trench. McCoy went over several trenches until he came to the final one, panting. His hands resting on the dirt. McCoy placed a hand on his chest gently looking over in the direction of the facility hearing gunfire. He felt around for the vokaya on his chest. His eyes slightly widened. McCoy felt only his chest. He dug around in his pockets for the vokaya as he whispered to himself, "No, no, no!"  
  
The doctor smacked his fist into the ground.  
  
"Damn you sadist!" McCoy shook his fist at the sky.  
  
The doctor briefly closed his eyes sucking in his fear and relaxed.  
  
"I am goin' back in for that necklace," McCoy said, opening his eyes. "and then I am goin' back to safety."  
  
The doctor nodded his head.  
  
"Preferable," McCoy said. "but is it logical to risk ones life for a simple necklace that can be replaced appropriately?"  
  
McCoy glared at thin air.  
  
"Why you pointy eared I-think-I-am-right-ass-hole," McCoy said, "ya gave it to me," his finger was like a dagger pointing at the spot where Spock would be. Then he softly added, "that is the only thin' that matters to me."  
  
To think McCoy missed the Vulcan.

The doctor turned back going in the direction of the facility.  
  
He stepped on something.  
  
Rounded, and heavy.  
  
There was a loud, crystal clear metal click.  
  
McCoy flew in the air landing on the ground feeling a terrible pain in his chest. Like shrapnel had embedded into it. Several ribs were likely injured, his foot felt like something sharp was inside it, and his arm didn't feel too good. McCoy used his good hand to lift himself up. He noticed that he had landed on the cold hard ground at the facility.  There was blood coming down from the side of his head. There was zinger fire between the two forces. McCoy limped his way in dragging his foot behind him. He probably looked like shit. He felt like shit. He probably looked like a zombie to any given person. It was worth the risk to lose his life. McCoy shoved forward a young  woman from the line of fire while leaning away from the shot.  
  
"Go to hell, ya enviousness snake," McCoy fired back.  
  
The second purple woman looked up in the direction of the doctor.  
  
"Sorry, gotta go," McCoy said, dropping the zinger to the floor.  "live lon' and prosper."  
  
With each step that felt like walking on shells, it felt like he was walking on fire. The doors slid open before him to the barracks. The doctor followed the last remaining memory that he had forged in this place leaving a trail of red blood on the floor. He saw a cot with a duffle bag that was beneath the bed. McCoy yanked it forward feeling pain in his left eye. He opened the drawer to be sure that he didn't need to search. McCoy saw the green lighting of the vokaya with a golden chain that had been broken into several pieces and the necklace itself looked intact at first sight.  
  
He carefully picked the necklace up into his trembling hands. He tightly held the item feeling the warmth from the dense circular object.  He slid the item into the pant pocket and buttoned the pocket up. He unzipped the bag to be sure it was his. He saw the bright blue uniform inside. The doctor sighed in relief. He was going to get out of here with his duffle bag and vokaya. A smile grew on his face. The doctor laughed at himself, out of amused. It was ridiculous that he was doing this. The doctor stood up onto his feet feeling his leg prepared to give out. He made himself go forward searching. Onwards. He had to get out of here in case someone decided to destroy the place. He had arrived at the near end of the war with the natives and the aliens. McCoy saw several slithering snake like beings on the floor. McCoy stomped onto the snake until all there was left was a skin and guts. He hated them. Absolutely hated them. He was going to kill any that he had seen in his way getting out.

The doctor felt relieved and free once he stomped the serpent to death.  
  
"Come on, Lenny," McCoy said. "we're boldly going home."  
  
He evaded the line of fire from the natives conflict.  
  
He looked over to see two women locked in combat.  
  
One in the uniform that he was in.  
  
One in the other variation.  
  
"Hey!" McCoy called. The enemy looked over in the direction of McCoy. "ya shirt is  on backwards!"  
  
The enemy was thrown down and a zinger fired into them knocking them out.  
  
"Ya welcome!" McCoy called.  
  
He felt dizzy and light in his head.  
  
He crashed against the nearby trench on his shoulder with the duffle bag around his operating shoulder.  
  
His eyes felt heavy.  
  
Prepared to close to gain some rest.  
  
McCoy raised his pinkie finger up to see the two threads. He was terrified. His body was starting to shut down and go numb. Obviously, that meant he was dying. The red lines of fate were dimming before his eyes. The red lines in the sky were starting to vanish. McCoy briefly closed his eyes struggling to breath. He forced his bad hand up  then gripped onto the two lines. He briefly closed his eyes, apologetically, thinking, _I am sorry, Spock. . . I won't take ya with me. I love ya but not enough to take ya with me._ He unwrapped the red line from his finger feeling love and comfort and affection. McCoy held them both for a good solid minute. Then wrapped them together. Then he finally unraveled it from his index finger letting the two tied links fly into the night lit sky vanishing from his line of sight until he couldn't see the lines of fate anymore.  He couldn't see the fates of others in the distance.

It was over.

Finally.

He saw a muscular figure surrounded by others.  
  
"Looks like we have a bargaining chip," the purple leader's voice said.  
  
"Fat. . . chance. . .about. . . that. . . ya. . . bastard," McCoy said.  
  
"They value people from different worlds," the purple leader towered over McCoy's figure. "get him."  
  
McCoy's eyes slowly began to close.  
  
"I am not a dursel in distress. . . . I am a doctor," McCoy said. Who often times has to go into danger to save others. 

"This month, you are," the purple leader said. And McCoy's eyes closed.  
  
Thousands of light years away, Spock collapsed to the floor unexpectedly.


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear if this makes me finish the story at 60 plus chapters then I am going to be pissed.

"What is wrong with him?" Jim asked, his hands on his waist.  
  
M'Benga sighed, looking up from the screen then combed through his hair.  
  
"He is suffering a death bond," M'Benga said.  
  
The word lingered in the air as Jim stared at him.  
  
"A death bond?" Jim asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Yes," M'Benga began to explain. "it's when someone loses a partner. You know, when they have something akin to a fully functional bond, and the other goes, it goes from a healthy, living bond into a draining, negative one that leads to the untimely demise. It only happens to the elderly on Vulcan."  
  
"So there is a chance that he can recover from this," Jim said.  
  
"With the best drugs there is," M'Benga said. "he won't be competent to be on duty, though, until we get to Vulcan."  
  
Jim's hand slid down his face.

"What do I do?" Jim asked, rubbing his hands together.  
  
"Wait and see if he wakes up," M'Benga said. "otherwise, you have some natives to help with their 'godly' problem. "  
  
Jim nodded his head.  
  
"I hate to do it . . . but this is Spock," Jim said, looking  over  toward the door. He looked back toward the doctor. "inform me when he wakes up."  
  
"Will do, Captain," M'Benga said, with a nod.  
  
Jim walked out of the room leaving the doctor. Christine entered the office with  a hypospray in hand and appearing to be sad. She didn't look quite happy herself. M'Benga approached the woman then leaned against the counter to the desk. He placed a hand on her shoulder as she had stopped in her tracks with her eyes full of heartbreak. M'Benga brought the woman into a hug allowing her to cry and so did he. He was terrified. He never lost a Vulcan on his watch.  Jim lowered his mental shields with Spock. Perhaps, just perhaps, the link might help in stabilizing him. Jim only had hope on his side as he made his way to the conference room to meet with Sanchallus and reassure her of how it was going to be fine.

* * *

Nyota and Jim played tennis. The holodeck was presenting a cool Earth like scenery with a court and a gap behind Jim that represented the entrance of the court yard. There was a console behind the captain who was in a white shirt lacking sleeves with holes to the side and a golden headband on his head. Nyota was in a white shirt with a white skirt and a scruncy keeping her curly dark hair up. Jim was wearing make up that covered the baggy eyes. His racquet smacked the white ball, loudly, making an echo in the room.  
  
"Jim," Nyota said, dodging a ball.  "who are you mad at?"  
  
Jim paced back and forth holding the racquet.  
  
"Life," Jim said.  
  
"Fair enough," Nyota went over picking up the ball.  She struck the ball up toward the young man.  
  
The ball hit Jim at the forehead and down he went.  
  
"Ow,"  Jim leaned forward from the floor  
  
"Oh my stars,"   Nyota said, with a gasp. "are you all right?"  
  
"I am fine," Jim said, smiling back at the shorter woman rubbing his forehead. Jim got back up onto his two feet.  He went over and picked up the small ball. "Sore and tired, it is not a big deal, I will hit the ball next shot."  
  
"Jim," Nyota said, leaning forward with her racquet. "get some shut eye. I can't exactly play against a drowsy captain, now can I?"  
  
"Yes, you can," Jim shot the ball back at Nyota.  
  
Nyota struck back.  
  
Jim leaped shooting back the ball right back at the woman. They were like that for a good half an hour.  The ball struck Jim at the chest then he used the racquet to bounce it back at Nyota. She struck. Jim  hit the racquet  at the wrong direction missing the ball. Jim frowned while Nyota laughed. She came over to the net then leaned forward.  
  
"You are a fair player when you are awake," Nyota said. "you are worried about Spock."  
  
"Who would not?" Jim asked.  
  
"He will wake up," Nyota said. "he always does and.. . ." she looked at the captain concerned. Nyota walked around the net heading toward the console brushing past the man.  Jim looked back at the woman fondly then followed after her.   "Jim, for Spock's sake, get some sleep," "I am sure that he wouldn't want you be  keeping yourself awake. . . I have to hit the hay, anyway," she leaned forward pressing a few buttons. "you better be in tip top shape when I see you again."  
  
"I will try to get some sleep," Jim said.  
  
Nyota looked over toward the captain with a relieved look on her face.  
  
"Good," Nyota said, as the room turned to darkness with a yellow grid.  "may I walk you to your quarters?"  
  
"I will hit the hay," Jim said, shaking his hands.  
  
"You notoriously don't listen when it comes to your own health," Nyota said. "you are my captain and my superior officer, I must walk you to your quarters based on valid concerns that you will fall asleep while walking." Jim leaned against the console with his eyes slowly closing then reopening. He forced his eyes open looking back at the woman warmly.

Nyota took the man by the hand and guided him out.

* * *

 

The link jerked to life, abruptly. Spock's eyes slowly fluttered open to see a pair of hazel eyes looking down upon him. Spock could feel the link burning with life but it didn't feel the same. Something was different. He realized:  it wasn't McCoy's.  The link felt like it never was meant to be. Or never had been. Spock could feel the tattered remains of the link reaching into the darkness. Nothing. Not at all. Nothing remained of the Doctor's golden link. There was no one else in the room.  
  
"Good morning, sleepy head," Jim said, with a smile.  
  
Spock leaned forward.  
  
"How was the meeting?" Spock asked.  
  
"It's fine," Jim said. "although we will be visiting Vulcan after this impromptu trip."  
  
"Jim," Spock said.  
  
"We have allready organized a way to help Sanchallus's people," Jim said.  
  
"I do not need to be taken to Vulcan," Spock said.  
  
"You are full of drugs," Jim said. "I am no Vulcan but you need a  Vulcan healer."  
  
"It has been tended to," Spock said. "I do not understand. . . The link we shared. . ." he looked down shaking his head. "it feels like it never existed between us," Spock looked over toward Jim. "as though there was nothing more between us than a friendship." his voice almost cracked at the last part.  
  
Jim placed a hand on the Vulcan's shoulder.  
  
"It is a miracle that you are awake," Jim said. "and from what I was told. . . I heard it was a bond."  
  
"It was a  T'hy'la bond," Spock said. "and now it is not."  
  
"Oh," Jim said, then he nodded. "I understand. . ."  
  
"Which is why I should not be awake," Spock said.  It was baffling, that, Jim could give it.  
  
"So someone unraveled McCoy's fate lines and changed it?" Jim asked.  
  
Spock looked at the human slightly tilting his head.  
  
"Yes," Spock said. Then he added with such conviction. "and I will find him."  
  
"Spock, how about you have a Vulcan Healer take a look at you,"  Jim said. "if. . . he is dead. . ."  
  
"Then his body must be given to his family," Spock said. "every star fleet officer requires a burial."

Jim nodded.  
  
"Yes, they do," Jim said. "I will inform his mother after we get the body."  
  
"It would be difficult to hear it from me," Spock felt around the remains of the link that he once shared with the doctor. Faintly alive but needed repair. The string that lead into the darkness was small, thin, and short. He could feel the ounce of life radiating from it yet he couldn't touch it.  The link that was only left at this level was Jim's. And his family bonds belonging to Sarek, Amanda, and Sybok.  "if there is even a body to retrieve."  
  
Jim gently took his hand off the Vulcan's shoulder.

"If you need anything. . ." Jim said.

"I will inform you," Spock said. "your thoughts are appreciated."

"Tushah nash-veh k'du," Jim said.

"That . . . is not necessary," Spock said. 

Spock felt disoriented with his body full of drugs as he attempted to sit on the edge of the biobed. Jim steadied the man. He briefly closed his eyes opening them to see there were double of the man. The  Vulcan briefly closed his eyes then reopened them to see the crystal clear human radiating and almost glowing before his vision. The human's golden hair had highlights from being in the sun too long.

Jim raised his eyebrow.  
  
"Why?" Jim asked.  
  
"I have reservations the idea of him being dead," Spock said. If Leonard was dead, then why was pieces of the link radiating with life?

Jim's look of concern eased into realization and then confidence.  
  
"You need to be discharged by the doctor," Jim said. "I will fill you in afterwards."

"That is logical," Spock said.

Jim smiled back at the Vulcan then left the room. Spock could not feel the emotions of the doctors. The feelings that he may be going through. Something was not right. What happened to him? He died and came back to life? That was illogical. Nothing of the sort could be possible to happen at all. It did not make sense. The door opened again for Doctor M'Benga. He squeezed his eyes feeling a headache from the problem coming up. The headache faded as thought of other things.

M'Benga's blue eyes slightly widened.  
  
Then he took out  small tricorder from the cabinet and scanned the Vulcan with it. The tricorder cleared him for active duty. It bewildered the doctor as he rubbed the side of his head. Losing a mate so young was unwise for males and females. It was extremely rare for the sudden loss of a young mate to cause a Vulcan to fall ill and faint. It would take days for that point to happen to most Vulcans who have yet to repair the bond through healer. The tricorder stared at the doctor once more.  He rubbed the side of his head thinking back to his training in the Vulcan Science Academy in the hospital section to treat Vulcans. This had to be dream. It was clearly surreal. It was clearly seeing Lazarus come from the grave in clear view with Jesus alongside him.  
  
A Vulcan on the edge of death cannot have come back without problems.  
  
It was highly frightening a first sight to see a wide awake and alert Vulcan.  
  
M'Benga thought the captain was joking when he said, "Spock is awake," beaming from ear to ear heading his way out.  
  
"I can't explain how you just woke up and not experiencing any side effects," M'Benga said.  
  
"Except for being full of drugs. . ." Spock said. "I will need time for them to wear off."  
  
"Yes, of course," M'Benga eyed at the Vulcan. "does any of the link remain?"  
  
"Tatters of it," Spock said.

"Peculiar and peculiar," M'Benga said, rubbing his chin.  
  
Spock nodded.

"It is unusuaL," Spock said, as M'Benga shared a short nod regarding the matter.

"I will discharge you in a few hours once the drugs have run their course," M'Benga said. "other than that, have some meditation or have our Vulcan Green Tea that Nurse Chapel made. It'll help your nerves."

"That would be adequate," Spock said.

The Vulcan turned his legs onto the biobed and landed down.

He began to enter a light form of meditation.

M'Benga looked at the man in sympathy. Christine entered with a ensign whose boot was burning. Spock ignored the background nose  and focused on clearing his mind. It was a lot like a disk clean up getting rid of the clutter that had gathered up in his mind and taking up space. He attempted to grasp the tatters of the link out of habit only to feel nothing. He could feel life radiating from it. And yet he could not contact through emotions. It was frustrating. Frustration, in this case, was a much logical emotion for the Vulcan.  Something screamed inside the Vulcan that his boyfriend was still alive not dead. And he was in need of help. No T'hy'la bond or link at all, Spock was going to make sure the human was in safe hands.

* * *

Sanchallus was rubbing her shoulders looking out on the observation desk.  
  
"The sight is quite spellbinding," Sanchallus said.  
  
Jim walked forward out of the darkness.  
  
"Beautiful, is it not?" Jim asked, coming to the woman's side.  
  
"Space, the final frontier, the one where my species almost never reached," Sanchallus looked over toward the taller human. She noticed he was in boots with heels. She smiled to herself looking up toward him. "it is gorgeous," she watched the way his eyes ligt up then turned toward space. "we have only gotten a taste of it in our space probes."  
  
"What era is your planet in, exactly?" Jim asked.  
  
"Clean energy," Sanchallus said.  
  
"21st century," Jim said.  
  
"Yes," Sanchallus said.  She raised a eyebrow. "when did you move into clean, renewable energy?"  
  
"After world war three," Jim said.  
  
"Dent-A is in the likes of that," Sanchallus said.  
  
"How can you tell?" Jim asked.  
  
"Radio signals," Sanchallus said. "satelite interception. . ." she shuddered. "we are going down the shit hole faster than they are," she shook her head. "someone attempting to take democracy away, fighting with every single state, taking out states, and engaging in a civil war with in itself."  
  
"Really?" Jim asked.  
  
"Really," Sanchallus nodded.  
  
"Sounds like they won't be around long," Jim said.  
  
"They don't have nukes, yet," Sanchallus said. "they never reached it. They may one of these days but that would destroy themselves."

"We nearly destroyed ourselves with nukes," Jim said.  
  
"How?"  Sanchallus asked, as Jim looked upon the woman, admiring her slightly chubby figure.  
  
"Hope for the future," Jim said.  "and optimism. Partially the Vulcan's first contact gave us something for us to look forward."  
  
"Ah," Sanchallus said. "we haven't had aliens making contact with us since they first started appearing over seventy. . . sixty. . . eight years ago?" she looked over toward the captain. "but your shuttle crafts are a rare thing to find. There is a running theory going around that the shuttles are sent to come here intentionally for people with the worst disability and live out the ret of their natural lives. Like they were ordered to come here," she shrugged. "I personally refuse to believe because you must be better than that."  
  
"We are above that," Jim said. "in fact we have  a few captains with prosthetics and disabilities."  
  
"That is comforting," Sanchallus said.  
  
"We are also above meddling with others affairs," Jim said. "your medicine . . . you have to do that on your own. . . your conflicts. . . that all has to be sorted out by you," she nodded her head in understanding. "if anything, I believe star fleet would start by giving slow increments to help your civilization advance one at a time."  
  
"That would be a blessing," Sanchallus said. "my people love the stars and making our lives better."  
  
"So do we," Jim said. "what do we call your people?"  
  
"Greengayians," Sanchallus said. "or. . . maybe Sanchallians. . . it is better than the DashCollourians."  
  
"I am sure your  species will find a proper name to have themselves be listed as," Jim said.  
  
Their heads turned toward the beautiful, dark sparkling space.  
  
"With a collective vote from every world leader," Sanchallus said "I am sure of it as sure I am of you people getting rid of the god imposters. That is an insult punishable by death on my planet."

That drew a concerned expression from Jim. 


	48. Chapter 48

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Straight and gay couples go through this shit with me. *Points to Thrown into Marvel*

Eric was hunting a rabbit with a bow and arrow.  
  
Humans could not live off salad like Vulcans.  
  
The rabbit had a hole in the left ear and it was slowly staining it to become a visible target. Hellis had gone back earlier with his lunch. It had been a long time since they had seen the doctor. Ripley didn't talk much about it but Eric could tell that it pained the man to have lost someone under his command. A security officer who had not died in over twenty years in the field was highly impressive. Getting stranded and losing the crew like flies was not good. They were watchful for the sight of the natives. They were using large pieces of rock to write down their reports using fine, sharpened rock pieces since they did not have paper or padds. It felt like they were living in the ancient times rather than the future.  
  
Ripley had decided tht they not use their padds until they were rescued.  
  
And also so they wouldn't leave them out which in turn would result in one of the natives finding it.  
  
They chose not to risk the chance.  
  
Eric fired at the small animal.  
  
The rabbit stopped moving landing on the grass.  
  
"Good job, Swinson," Eric told himself, with a smile.  
  
He lowered the bow then made his way toward the limp, dead rabbit. He saw the shape of a figure in the distance. The man paused, contemplating the plan that the commander had laid out. He ducked behind a tree taking out his arrow then put it into the bow. The figure kept moving coming forward. He narrowed his eyes at the clearing figure. He lowered the bow and arrow with a smile appearing to be relieved. He put the arrow back into the object wrapped around his shoulder then made his way to the rabbit.  
  
"Doctor!" Eric called. "Good to see you again!"  
  
McCoy stopped.  
  
"Any of ya dead?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Not really," Eric said. "fifteen of us," he yanked out the arrow then put it back into the container. "how did you get away from them?"  
  
"I never really left," McCoy said, as the hair on the back of Eric's neck rose up. "I don't think ya can help me with this."  
  
Eric saw that McCoy held a snake like item in one hand and there was a pained expression on his face.  
  
"Surely we can," Eric said.  
  
"Ya can kill me," McCoy said. "They know I am not alone,"  His hand was trembling as he started to raise the item. "Ya hear about the stories of the goa'uld?" Eric slowly nodded taking out his bow stepping back once putting the dead rabbit into the same container. "I killed the other one . . I can't now. I just fuckin' can't. And fightin' this thin' is not easy."  
  
Eric stepped back, further, his gray eyes staring at the doctor in fear.  
  
"You are right," Eric said. "we have some wounded and. . . I am sorry that it had to be this way. . . and we really could have used your expertise."  
  
"There are a lot of thin's I wish happened," McCoy said,  with a pained smile. "if ya catch Spock. . . can ya tell him. . . . ." his hand was trembling. "that poem you caught me writin'. . . ya remember it?" Eric nodded. "tell him that."

"Vulcans love poetry," Eric said.

"Yes, they do," McCoy said, then pressed the trigger.  
  
Eric stepped aside letting go of the arrow letting it fly. He fled on foot  in the different direction. McCoy's eyes glowed  gently, light yellow color.  Then it flashed back to normal. His right hand gripped on the arrow digging it in further into him. The human body was not capable of moving under extreme pain and fatal injuries. He dug it further into his lungs feeling a tear striking down. He took an oath to save lives not take them. But this was a exception. He was saving their lives. It would take time for the retrieval team to get him and take him into the esophagus for further repair. It felt like pieces of his soul was being yanked away by the machine. Which it was in every way. He felt a hand gently graze the side of his face as he winced.  
  
That was not Spock.  
  
But it was, but it was Not Spock.  
  
He had the Vulcan's face, eyes, and hair but he wasn't really there.  
  
"Hinek," Not Spock said. "you are killing yourself."  
  
"The needs of the many weigh the needs of the . . . AHHH!" McCoy screamed. He panted. "one."  
  
The normally stoic expression became emotional on Not Spock's face.  
  
"I am coming," Spock said.  
  
"Hah," McCoy said. "ya just sayin' that to me because ya my hallucination." his eyes winced.  
  
"True," Not Spock said. "but it is what you believe in."  
  
"And see me in this bad shape," McCoy said. "if ya were here then I would be sent to the  Enterprise and bein' saved right this minute," he briefly closed his eyes. "blood loss. . . injury. . . pain. . . I am hallucinatin' ya."  
  
"That is a logical assessment," Not Spock said, his hand placed alongside the human's hand.  
  
"I am not apologizin' to ya since ya not the real thin'," McCoy said.  
  
"Apologizing to a hallucination is illogical," Not Spock said.  
  
"Got that right," McCoy said. "first hallucination is ya. . . what a surprise."  
  
"Actually it is not," Spock said. "when one is nearing the pillars of death they begin to yearn for their loved ones," the warm hands clenched around the doctor's hand. "to comfort them on their painful ordeal."

"So I am yearnin' ya," McCoy said.

"Affirmative," Not Spock said.

"Not bad to spend the last few moments of my life with my boyfriend," McCoy said.

"It is a better fate than ones you are thinking of," Not Spock said.

"Stop readin' my mind, damn it," McCoy growled. "ya just ruined the moment."

"I did not," Not Spock argued back.

"Don't argue with a man on his death bed," McCoy warned, glaring at the Vulcan.

"I can argue with you to the ends of time and space," Not Spock said. "I can argue with you to death. This moment we are sharing is not ruined," Not Spock squeezed the doctor's hand. The zinger was placed along his side. "It is a tender, heartwarming period between us."

McCoy would never admit that he was touched by a hallucination of his boyfriend. The same one who might be thinking that he is dead. Was he even worthy of having Spock anymore? Was that why they were sent to the wrong planet? Because they were dysfunctional, impaired high risked assets? A tear escaped the side of the doctor's face. Not Spock stroked the tear off the side of the doctors face looking at him like there was a beautiful marble stature laid before him. There was a look in the Vulcan's eye. Admiring, plausibly. McCoy could not always catch the emotion that fell from those eyes because Vulcan's were so complex and secretive.

Not Spock wrapped his two fingers around McCoy's fingers sending affection, love, and care while restraining the pleasurable arousal.

"The real Spock would say otherwise and admit that he is wron'," McCoy grumbled.

"This time I am right," Not Spock argued "and I do not believe you are dying, doctor," his voice dripping heavily in emotion.  
  
"Ya hear bein' emotional," McCoy said. "and ya not a doctor."  
  
"Anyone can be a doctor," Not Spock said. "but not surgically."  
  
McCoy nodded his head then briefly closed his eyes.

"Got that right," McCoy said.

Suddenly the doctor felt a kiss on his lips. The feeling of someone entering his mouth with their tongue. He could feel the Vulcan's warm, large hand on the side of his face. The feel of the man's hairy wrist brushing against McCoy's cheek. The doctor's eyes remained closed not questioning the entire scenario. The fight against the second serpent was hard but he was going end this body with his own bare hands and enjoy what happened afterwards. McCoy's head fell onto the grass feeling his dick harden. The feel of the Vulcan's hand grazing along the human's thigh.

"Doctor," Not Spock said. "keep holding on."

A feeling of warmth spread through his face.

"Ya not Spock," McCoy said. "Spock is not interested in sex."

There was a lengthy pause as a hot tear made its way down the side of the human's face. McCoy was fine with having a romantic relationship without sex. He could go without it with Spock. He didn't really care about sex. The flow of warmth stopped and the feeling of beloved and cherished left as it had. Painfully. McCoy could feel the flow of blood in the palm of his hands. More tears came down the human's cheeks. He slid it deeper but turned the arrow  which earned a gasp in pain.

"You are not alone," McCoy heard his daughter's voice.  
  
When his eyes opened again, he saw Joanna sitting alongside him.

Her small, soft agile hands wrapped around the doctors hands.

He could see the woman's hazel eyes and short brown hair.

Another thing stood out to the doctor, she was in her cadet reds.  
  
"Pumpkin?" McCoy asked.

Not Joanna smiled back upon him.  
  
"Pa, it's okay," Not Joanna said.

"I. . ." he winced in pain. "don't have to hallucinate again the next time I do this. . ." he raised an eyebrow back at the younger woman. "right?"  
  
"Hopefully," Not Joanna said. "Pa, why do ya always get hurt all of a sudden?"  
  
"I am the universes chew toy," McCoy said, as he could feel her hand sliding the item forward.  
  
"I love ya," Not Joanna said.  
  
"I love ya too,"  McCoy said. "what brings ya here?"  
  
"You," Not Joanna said.    
  
McCoy rolled an eye.  
  
"Frankly," McCoy said.  
  
"Ya a strong doctor," Joanna said. "and I am proud that ya are my pa."  
  
"Me too," McCoy said, shedding a comforted smile. "pumpkin. . ."  
  
"Yes, pa?" Not Joanna asked.  
  
"Please don't leave me," McCoy said.  
  
"Lon' as ya don't leave me," Not Joanna said, as their grip together tightened. "Devils hand, cancer, tumor, and now this. . ."  
  
"Be glad that ya don't have to face that any time soon," McCoy said. "I frankly saved ya life."  
  
"Yes, you did," Not Joanna said, with a laugh.  
  
"I admit . ." McCoy said. "I attract danger. That is annoyin'."

"I hope I don't," Not Joanna joked.

"You really should hope ya don't," McCoy said. "no one. . . should. . . go through . . . this. . ."

"No one should," Not Joanna said, with a nod.

McCoy began to lose consciousness as he heard the sound of familiar boots coming his direction from behind him. He saved someone today. He saved the lives of others. He was not a soldier but a doctor. McCoy hoped Spock understood what he had to do. He hoped his mother could forgive him for dying on her not once but twice. He remembered so many things that Spock and he had done during their shore leave together. The boots stopped and his eyes closed as he fell into the steady stream of darkness.

* * *

"Commander," T'Plass approached the commander bound by a wheelchair in the dark but barely lit structure. "we are preparing to move."  
  
"Is this all our life is going to be?" Ripley asked. "Running from. . . Goa'uld?"  
  
"No, sir," T'Plass said.  
  
"We can't keep running," Ripley said.  
  
"Commander," T'Plass said, approaching the man's side. "there is a very hostile mountain range with a field of grass. The wildlife is more dangerous than the ones we have come across. . . but if we do not get in their way then they will stay out of our way," the human looked up toward the lighter man. "I sense we will be taken off this planet in a matter of days."  
  
"Lieutenant. . ." Ripley said. "why did you save me from that bear?" he looked up toward the Vulcan. "You could have easily left me to die," T'Plass had a scar trailing down the right side of his face with that very same eye closed. "you could have your vision. . ."he turned his head away. "both eyes. . . open," he shook his head.  
  
"The risk was worth it," T'Plass said. "not many humans like being commanded by Vulcans."  
  
"Now, that is not true," Ripley said, looking over toward the Vulcan. Ripley had a growing beard along his cheeks. "Vulcans are the most sane, well put together capable leaders that have ever graced this quadrant. Hell, serving under a  Vulcan would be preferable. I would trade places with you. . . I don't like making hard decisions."  
  
Ripley lowered his head.  
  
"It is not easy for us to make those decisions as we make it look," T'Plass admitted.  
  
"If. . if. . if. .  we get back, alive," Ripley said. "I look forward to beating you at Halo."  
  
"I do not see that happening," T'Plass said.  
  
"The next time we meet," Ripley said.  
  
"Ah, when we have the time," T'Plass said.  
  
Ripley nodded.  
  
"I am going to take early retirement. . . ." Ripley said. "then sue the ass off whoever sent the command to send us here. No one in their right mind would send us here without our  fucking knowledge! FUCKING COWARD!"  
  
T'Plass retrieved several of the belongings that had been gathered and created during their stay placing them into the large basket. Ripley wheeled himself toward the exit. We can see scars on the side of the man's bare muscular arm that appeared to have been well healed. Blackman went inside gathering her belongings putting them into the duffle bag that seemed to be intact. Blackman had scars along her face  and her right arm seemed to be missing but only  stump that started from the elbow and ended at the shoulder. The men and women moved their moved plants into the hand made pots that seemed to be made of clay into a larger basket stacking the plants alongside each other. Some of the men had lost more fingers than the woman and their hands were covered in dirt.  
  
Fellis sighed, leaning against the opening of the building.

"I can't believe we have to leave so soon," Fellis said.  
  
"Look, mate," Ryan said, clasping a hand on the white man's shoulder. "nomads had to leave after a greater period of time than we did."  
  
"But they were never aliens," Fellis said. Fellis felt like an alien. One who did not belong to this planet. "  
  
"There is a museum in South Dakota regarding the migration from Mars to Earth for humanity," Ryan said, taking his hand off the man's shoulder. "they were the aliens to the planet."

"I will miss this place," Fellis said, leaning away from the wall taking his belongings with him.  
  
"So will I. . ." Ryan looked back at the emptying inside.  
  
Ryan had scars along his neck, cheek, and face. The army uniform had been tattered at the shoulders yet it remained partially buttoned for the man.  The women had gone ahead and removed the sleeves from the uniform to reveal their prosthetics or their arms that didn't have a prosthetics. They mainly had their feet but their arms were not as fortunate due to the unforgiving wildlife. Ryan looked tired. His light green eyes looked about. He went over and began to sabotage the building at some of the key locations with his boots to make it fall apart. Polly came over to the man's side placing a hand on his shoulder as he was trembling. He didn't want to go. He just wanted to stay in one place and not have to be constantly threatened by a war scenery. He was fine with away missions but not this. His hand traveled down his face feeling tears down his face.  
  
They were security officers.  
  
Not fugitives.  
  
Not campers.  
  
Not hunters.  
  
Was it even worth just packing up and going deeper?  
  
Couldn't they just fall and let themselves be taken into civilization?  
  
No, the prime directive  explicitly indicated that showing one selves was forbidden until warp drive was reached.  
  
Fellis went past him following after the leaders of the group.  
  
"Are you okay, man?" Polly asked.  
  
"No," Ryan said. "I am just worried if I will be compromised to continue serving in Star Fleet."  
  
"Don't worry," Polly said. "the girls and I are doubting how we can operate in the field as star fleet officers."  
  
"Comforting,"  Ryan said. "for the women who fought against man eating goats that sounds below you."  
  
"Those goats were going to  kill you men," Polly said. “we can’t do it alone. We rode them out with our unity,” she shook her index finger at the man. “remember that. Because that is part of being able to climb the ranks and gain your own command. . ." she lowered her hand. "like Ripley said, being a amputee is only a hiccup.”  
  
Polly went past the man.  
  
“It is just a hiccup,” Ryan repeated, picking up the handle to his wheeled basket. "just a hiccup."

We watch the group make their way out of the building. Shortly after they were in the distance, we can see the building fall apart into a mess of finely, well kept treebark bark and twigs and mud. T’Plass paused, looking over in the distance, while on  the long windy path of a mountain. He could see the fourteen other men and women using other as support and tied together by a improvised made rope. Humans found ways to keep themselves together even with the loss of their lower limps or upper limbs to keep them balance. He looked over toward the wheeling upward commander. He may have lost the ability to walk but the man was still going strong.  
  
And personally.  
  
That also gave hope to lieutenant.  
  
And quite possibly the other ensigns.  
  
T’Plass resumed his trek.

Hope moved like wildfire among the humans, like a deadly disease, but only kept them going forward.

* * *

A part of McCoy was overjoyed that Spock wasn't feeling what he felt now.

Whatever the purple man had him be placed onto, for the beginning of his capture, there were razor sharp thorns digging into his skin. His body riddling in pain. halfway into his ass. Sweat fell down his skin as he winced. There were thorns into the man's back. He was lucky that not one of them went into the part of the spine where a gentle touch can cause paralyization. The link between them was broken. The lack of a link hurt and it felt like something was missing. There were thorns embedded halfway into the man's palm. His knees were embedded by small, gray thorns.

"I know that you killed my friend," the purple man. "and I am going to draw your misery out."

"Ya losin' this war," McCoy said. "ya in a underground shelter and ya not goin' to take me with ya."

"What makes you think I won't?" the purple man asked.

"Unlike Hitler and his men, I have a fightin' chance of gettin' out of here alive," McCoy said.

The purple man leaned back upwards as the ground trembled.  
  
“Keep thinking that,” the purple leader said.  
  
“And you just want me to die with you not as a hostage,” McCoy argued back. “ya losin’. The forces ya have on this planet have either been captured or killed in the field includin’ their serpents. You have united a entire fuckin’ planet against you for once cause. You should have expected that.”  
  
“No one expects the french inquisition,” the purple leader said. “my back up will be here. . . soon. . . and then I will have the edge.”  
  
“Keep talkin’,” McCoy said, as the lights flickered.  
  
“Sir,” a commander came to the purple leader. “squad leader eight has reported causalities. The nuclear bomb has been dropped,” McCoy’s eyes slightly widened as he felt a dead weight landing into his stomach. All those people. Dead. “and I believe he is dead as that was the last he wrote.”  
  
“What about the other squads?” the purple leader asked.  
  
“We lost them over the desert area,” The commander said,  
  
“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY CRASHED INTO A DESERT WITH NUCLEAR BOMBS?” the purple leader demanded, walking away from the doctor. “What about the others?” his hands were pressed against the palm of his hands. “did they survive?”  
  
“Headed this way,”  the  commander said.  
  
“Listen to me, carefully,” the purple leader said, motioning the lieutenant out and he went out the door.  
  
McCoy was bound to the chair unable to move enduring the pain. His eyes felt heavy. His ass felt sore. He felt pain radiating from his joints. He briefly closed his eyes hoping. Praying to himself. . . that they destroyed the rotten bastard.  Sometime this week. He hadn’t been fed in two days in the chair. His stomach growled.  The symbiote that he had been given was working over time to repair the damage that he had been given. His wounds were healing and bleeding at once. He was going to die of blood loss. McCoy’s battle with the symbiote to control the body was difficult at best. His eyes closed. He couldn’t move his neck as there was a strap keeping him in. When his eyes opened again, there were a row of rings glowing a shade of white and then they vanished for people dressed on the opposing side. One of them was what appeared to be a forty year old native with bags under her eyes and graying brown hair that was up in a brown.  
  
She reminded him of someone.  
  
The women and men came over to the doctor’s side.  
  
“Urgh . . .” McCoy groaned, as a woman scanned him with a square see through object.  
  
“He has one inside him,” the purple physician said.,  
  
“Oh shit,” the captain of the group, the forty year old, swore. “it won’t be easy helping him?”  
  
“Depending how old the snake is,” the purple physician said.  
  
“Pry the binds off, Miss Heal’uc,” the purple captain said. “Heloc and Teloc mind the doors, I will contact our ride.”  
  
 McCoy noticed the incredible buff, muscular taller woman nodded from across the two people who were standing beside him. The men of the group were holding long squirt gun like device. There was a woman  reading a sign observing it with intrigue that no one was bothering to pay attention to her. Heal’uc yanked off the binds with a single pull from his ankles, knees, wrist, waist, and neck. Heal’uc was a silent woman with curly dark hair and she had a clear forehead. The purple physician took out what seemed to be a wide metal brace then slid it under the doctor’s wrist. It clasped around his wrist binding into his skin with a hot sting. The purple captain spoke into a square device. McCoy’s neck felt sore. He could not move it.  
  
“Shhh,” the purple physician said. “we are here to help.”  
  
“Pelie, get the fuck away from that sign,” the purple captain said.  
  
“There’s more of the serpents language,” Pelie said.  
  
“The last time you looked at a sign and got interested in it, you fell through it into a hide out and nearly got yourself killed,” the purple captain said. “I am not risking the loss of our asset who happens to know the language of these bastards.”  
  
“Goa’uld. . .” McCoy said. “they are called the Goa’uld.”  
  
There was silence lingering in the air as recognition went through their eyes.  
  
“See?” the purple woman asked. “I told you that was their name. You wouldn’t believe someone who underwent  Kat’hal’u to speak with their past lives than speaking to your own soul.”  
  
“I don’t need to speak with my own soul,” the purple captain said. “I speak with it all the time.”

Heloc and  Teloc sealed the door using a special setting to their weapon. Heal’uc took the doctor out of the chair carefully making sure to not get herself cut. The purple physician had added the healing binds to the doctors to the points that had holes bleeding steadily. McCoy was leaned into the woman’s neck as the group gathered in the center across from the chair. There was a bang from the door bending it inwards. The purple captain went over then put Pelie over her shoulders heading toward the group speaking into the device. She came to a stop at the center. McCoy could see a flash of light into a bright a bright yellow scenery. He felt and tired. His stomach ached for food. He was placed onto a soft, warm bed. He had been sitting terribly for the past four days.   
  
“Carhur, start the ride!” the purple captain said. “Signal command that we have the hostage!”   
  
Heal’uc went over to a panel.   
  
“You are not going back doing there, are you?” the purple physician asked.   
  
“He did say duffle bag,” the purple captain said.   
  
“That’s just an excuse to fight him,” the purple physician said. “it is not worth it!”  
  
“When is fighting worth anything?” Heloc asked. “sir, would you like back up?”  
  
“If you want to die,” the purple captain said. “of course.”  
  
“That bastard killed my entire family,” Teloc said.   
  
“Mine too,” Heloc said. “we are going to make them pay.”  
  
“We all lost someone today,” the purple physician said, the took out a small cube from her device as the squad centered across. “here, eat this, it is a nutritional block engineered to fill for a two course breakfast meal. Egg pasta and bacon.”  
  
“Thank . . . you. . .” McCoy weakly took the item.   
  
“You have twenty-five minutes!” Carhur said. McCoy put it into his mouth and started to chew, slowy, with the semi solid food.   
  
“Good enough time as ever,” the purple captain said. “Heal’uc, ring us down!”  
  
Heal’uc nodded, pressing the appropiate buttons  
  
“Ahhh,” McCoy said. “oh . . so. . . good.”  
  
“They will help you regain your strength,” the purple captain said. “you can stop fighting now,” he could see in her eyes sincerity. That he didn’t need to be scared. He briefly cleared his throat. “Leave it to us.”  
  
“There were others. . . like me. .  .” McCoy said.   
  
“We got them two days ago,” the purple physician said. “came upon our old base actually by accident. Happy accident!” McCoy sighed a relief. “Rest, doctor.”  
  
McCoy surrendered to the darkness and fell to a comforting rest. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I basically got the whole poetry arch idea from this story that I read long ago---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/970448
> 
> MISERY ENDS HERE. 
> 
> RECOVERY BEGINS NEXT CHAPTER, AGAIN, FOR MCCOY. 
> 
> I feel so bad for doing this to him.


	49. Chapter 49

“I found this on the host,” the purple captain said, handing a golden tinted object to McCoy.  
  
McCoy took the vokaya and his hand tightly clasped round it.  
  
“Thank ya,” McCoy said, emotionally.  
  
the purple captain nodded her head then went past him to join the rest of her crew.  
  
McCoy gently stroked the item in his palm.  
  
“I am never goin’ to lose ya again,” McCoy told the inanimate object. “ya going straight in my ass he next time I am captured and in a very dangerous situation. Ever. Never. Ever. Ever.”

And slowly the doctor grew emotional feeling unsure if Star Fleet would ever bother looking for a dead man. No, they would not. Not even remotely close. For a civilization that has yet to hit warp drive they would not risk breaking the prime directive. The doctor slipped off the new necklace material that had been worn by the purple leader tossing it to the ground. With that, he held it close to his chest. He watched the celebration going on before him. The skies were alive. McCoy was alone. The others were being given prosthetics by the natives who didn't really care about the prime directive or that they were different from them.

"Hello," Heal'uc said, approaching the doctor.

"Hello," McCoy said.

"What is your planet called?" Heal'uc asked.

"Earth," McCoy said. "it is a lot like this planet and all. . . " he waved his hand toward the sky.

"Hm," Heal'uc said. "so they have three moons?"

"Two, technically, but one," McCoy said.

“You must miss it,” Heal’uc said.  
  
“Not that much,” McCoy said, his hand rubbing the top of the device. “actually, I miss my boyfriend.”  
  
“I knew it,” Heal’uc said, suddenly.  
  
“What?” McCoy asked, alarmed.  
  
“That everyone accepts it,” Heal’uc said. “our former president said it was not practiced off world.”  
  
A smile grew on the doctor’s face.  
  
“Of course,” McCoy said.  
  
“We have our first male president in more than a hundred years,” Heal’uc said. “where do you see yourself in a hundred years?”  
  
McCoy paused, thinking, and the only thing he could see in his mind  being with s Spock but grayed and the background was fuzzy.  
  
“With my boyfriend,” McCoy said.  
  
“I wish you the best of luck reuniting with him,”  Heal’uc said, bowing her head.  
  
“Lost your family too?” McCoy asked.  
  
“They were elsewhere,” Heal’uc said.

"At least ya came out with everyone," McCoy said. "thank ya. . ." he placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. "for taking it off."

Heal'uc bowed her head. Walking was difficult for the human. The pain from in his ass was still fading but standing still was another story. The purple phyiscian assure him that they had technology to fix that  and also informed him that he was lucky that they didn't a dick thorn to make it even more painful for him. He was free. No symbiote. He had personally seen the serpent be killed through a procedure that gave no mercy.  He let go of the woman's shoulder then made his way toward the crowd of security officers with a wheel chair bound officer. They were clean shaved and well dressed. He saw some of them had their sleeves up to show their amputated limbs. He looked over to see T'Plass had his other eye closed with his left hand linked behind his back. They looked radiant in youth lacking scars on their faces like someone had gone through and used some kind of skin regenerator on them to take away the scar tissue.

The Vulcan's eyes landed on the shorter human.

"Greetings, doctor," T'Plass said, giving the Vulcan salute with his now unlinked hand.

"Good to see you, again," Ripley said, sharing a smile up toward the doctor.

"McCoy!" Ponner said, with a smile. "You look fantastic."

"They put the skin cleaners on you, too?" Polly asked.

"They did," McCoy said. "after they performed on me,"

"It's awesome," Blackman said.

"Super awesome,"  Polly agreed, "it feels like . . water. . Like you are in sonic shower but you are not."

"I must apologize for firing at you," Eric said.

"Don't," McCoy held his free hand up. He gave for a forgiving smile. "I asked."

"Say, why did you stray away from the urinate bush?" Ryan asked.

"Two people needed me help and I took it," McCoy said. "and how the hell did ya remove body parts?"

"Lieutenant T'Plass operated on us, mostly," Ripley said. "he should be given the rank Lieutenant Commander with his act of valor."

"Commander, I was not on  active duty, it does not count," T'Plass said, glaring back at the resting Commander.

"Oh come on," Eric said. "you deserve it. It's logical."

"I agree," Annebelle said.

"I think the president of the federation would agree to it," Louise said.

"Your bondmate would likely agree," Tarriel said.

"Everyone who knows you agrees," Janet said.

"High five!" Jackie said.  The two women handed their drinks to the two men by their side then  shared a high five that sounded like a smack. They returned their rinks from the two men and shared a happily toast.

"If ya kept them alive for so lon', without my help, that is surely grounds for promotion or getting a medal of honor," McCoy said. "and a good old vacation with your family."

"It was not easy," T'Plass said. "I had help from Cindy."

"After he operated on me," Cindy shrugged.

"It really was our part that made him get everyone operated on right," Tarren said. "though I do have to credit the medical tv shows that we watched to suction out the blood out of his line of sight."

"I prefer not to be told on how y'all lost one of your arms," McCoy said.

"Not even remotely amusing," Fellis said. "you didn't lose a arm or a finger."

"I was a esophagus," McCoy said. "that does not count."

"What did you lose?" Ripley asked. "we all lost something to the wilderness. . ."

"The sanctity of my mind," McCoy said, as the glass broke in T'Plass's prosthetic hand.

"Excuse me," T'Plass said, then he wandered off after the purple captain. 

"Wonder got to him,"  Cindy said, finding it odd.

"Look on the bright side," McCoy said. "we survived a month on a alien planet and we ain't dead."

"Yes," the others nodded.

"Time softens wounds but it does not heal them," Fellis said. "And hey, you get to tell the lieutenant commander your poem."  
  
McCoy's face turned a heated red.   
  
"it's depressin'," McCoy replied.   
  
"No, it is sappy!" Polly said.   
  
"Wonderfully sappy,"  Ripley said.   
  
"Really, really, really, really, really, really really, really, really,really, really," Eric emphasized. "really good," the man finished.  
  
"I liked it," Ponner said.   
  
 "I wrote it down in case you did forget," Eric said.   
  
Eric took out the small ipad from his pocket and showed it to the doctor. McCoy rubbed his chin looking down at the screen and he cringed to himself how disorganized it was. It was still as depressing and incomplete as he had left it.  He didn't finish it after the man walked away and instead looked out for the growing garden preferring  to speak with it rather than the others and eventually he called it Spock giving updates but he did not sit there all the time. McCoy squinted his eyes. For once, there was hope drifting around the scenery. They were in a better position than they had been when they first came down.  T'Plass spoke with the purple captain who appeared to raise an eyebrow at what had been said.   The scenery was colorful and full of life.   
  
T'Plass had a determined expression in his eyes.   
  
He was going to make the symbiote suffer through a mind meld and kill it that way.   
  
The symbiote was in a container.   
  
The last of its kind on the planet.   
  
-  
  
 _Your eyes are brown,_  
  
 _as the dirt,_  
  
 _that I do not own,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _Your chin is like a chiseled mountain,_  
  
 _Soft,_  
  
 _Long,_  
  
 _Yet hard loft,_  
  
 _To rest on,_  
  
 _-_  
 _Your skin is green,_  
  
 _as a apple,_  
  
 _your ears are pointy,_  
  
 _not as a elf,_  
  
 _but as a Vulcan,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _upturned,_  
  
 _sharp,_  
  
 _not rounded,_  
  
 _Obvious,_  
  
 _In your face,_  
  
 _With those slanted tree like eyebrows,_  
  
 _-_  
 _Your skin is hot as the sahara desert,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _Your hands large yet nimble,_  
  
 _Long, and gentle yet tinder,_  
  
 _Your interest in science,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _Is,_  
  
 _Science,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _The way you look at a thing,_  
  
 _in fascination and awe,_  
  
 _In intrigue as though,_  
  
 _it was a new progression rather than anything,_  
  
 _non-interesting,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _Seasons pass,_  
  
 _Children grow,_  
  
 _Blaring,_  
  
 _Cheering,_  
  
 _Falling,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _but you will never change,_  
  
 _As a person,_  
  
 _Phyiscally,_  
  
 _And I like that,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _I miss hearing your voice,_  
  
 _Like sweet velvet,_  
  
 _Dipped in dark chocolate,_  
  
 _Being with you,_  
  
 _Made me feel different,_  
  
 _Than I did with Joss,_  
  
 _-_  
 _I am scared,_  
  
 _Of how this will turn  out,_  
  
 _Terrified,_  
  
 _but with you,_  
  
 _I am not afraid,_  
  
 _Long as you are my Vulcan lover,_  
  
 _I can face whatever this universe has to throw at me._  
  
 _-_  
  
 _Will you,_  
  
 _Remember me?_  
  
 _When  I get old,_  
  
 _Become dependent on others,_  
  
 _And lose control of my motor functions,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _The person I used to be,_  
  
 _A former shell._  
  
 _Of course you will,_  
  
 _Remember the person I used to be,_  
  
 _And you will have hair of a raven,_  
  
 _unaged,_  
  
 _Unravaged,_  
  
 _Not haunted by the wrath of time,_  
  
 _soft, clean green skin,_  
  
 _Time will be aging  you gracefully,_  
  
 _No laughter lines,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _I will get laughter lines,_  
  
 _You won't,_  
  
 _I will get bags under my eyes---_  
  
 _I have bags under my eyes,_  
  
 _I am unsure_  
  
 _if you have bags under your eyes,_  
  
 _but due to your occupation,_  
  
 _I am willing to say that the captain's well being triumphs your own health,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _I hope you take care of yourself,_  
  
 _Looking off the observation deck,_  
  
 _Staring into space,_  
  
 _While  I look back,_  
  
 _at the night sky,_  
  
 _planet side,_  
  
 _waiting for you,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _Some days I feel the ghost of your affection on my finger tips,_  
  
 _The feel of your hand on my shoulder,_  
  
 _I expect to see you,_  
  
 _Except I don't,_  
  
 _I see no one,_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _Listening to your deep, cat like purr,_  
  
 _Beautiful,_  
 _-_  
 _Laughing as you sit down into a taped box on the floor,_  
  
 _Pouncing on a red laser light,_  
  
 _and head butting me for attention by accident_  
  
 _-_  
  
 _Why did you make me love you so munch---_

 _"You have entrapped me into a spell, that makes me feel, all too much,"_ Eric added, as a tear dripped onto the screen. _"and I am glad to be with you again."_

"That made me feel things I wasn't sure I could feel," Polly said.

McCoy wiped off a tear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GETTING SO FREAKING CLOSE TO THE ENDING.


	50. Chapter 50

It was two days since the celebration regarding the victory of saving the world and avoiding a entire nuclear holocaust had ended. We can see in a closed closet that there were suits with twenty first century attire among them. We can see two beaten duffle bag beneath the clothes alongside various kind of footwear. Our view swam into the bright scenery  that had a balcony, see through windows,  a curved television set, and odd unique buildings designed that were tall. Fellis was going through his hair with one hand while his other shirt  was draped onto a couch.   


Our scene rotated to show that it was the living room connected to the bedroom that had  automatic doors. It was daylight outside where we can see a unusual small bird with massive, long skinny wings flying past in a pack flying past a larger bird that was darkly themed compared to the slightly light colored birds.  The kitchen, itself, looked remarkably 21st century like.  Clean, light gray metal and a advanced refrigerator set alongside the sink.  Including the dishwasher, laundry washer, and so on.   


"Eric, what are you doing?" Fellis asked, coming into the shared quarters with the man.  
  
"Setting it up to send the poem when federation wifi comes in contact," Eric replied sitting on the edge of the couch.   
  
"Eric," Fellis said, sitting alongside the man. We notice, as they sat side by side, that they were missing their right and left arms. A perfect space with their shoulders had ended at the elbow.  
  
"There is always a chance," Eric said.  
  
"You know he is embarrassed by it, just delete it," Fellis said.  
  
"He has to see it," Eric said.  
  
"He is seeing one of those mental,  healing doctors," Fellis said. "let him send it."  
  
"He hates it,"  Eric said.  
  
"It is none of our business, honey," Fellis said. Eric stood up.  
  
"The doctor told me about what he saw between us," Eric said.

"Hey, just because we don't have strings that determine if our fates are tied doesn't mean that's it," Fellis said reaching his hand over toward the man's shoulder, "and it ain't any of his business."  
  
"All those times we have been in everyone's business.  ." Eric said. "and it is our business," he looked up toward the man.  
  
Fellis sighed.

"You are right," Fellis said. "Karma . . is very. . bad when it comes to us," his eyes went over to the direction of the padd then he reached forward and gently took the item. "we get into peoples business for a living, mate," he winked. "let's do it as a couple," he laid the item onto their thighs placed together and nuzzled the man's neck. "let's be nosey roseys."

A smile grew on Eric's face feeling the fine, soft hair to Fellis's hair trickling against his skin.

"All right, honey," Eric said. He kissed the man's forehead and their foreheads touched looking into each other's eyes, and their fingers intermingled together, their three fingers; no pinkie finger or the third finger to the index finger, looping onto their knuckles. Eric guided the man's hand to the button. "the couple that noses together stays together."  


Their fingers tapped lightly on the same button.   


  



	51. Chapter 51

"Good morning!" McCoy heard Ponner's voice.  
  
"Wake up, sleepy head," came Polly's voice. McCoy raised his head up from the bed with  a groan to see the two women standing side by side in what appeared to be bright attire. "you have a doctor's appointment today."  
  
 McCoy's head fell down.  
  
 "Nnah," McCoy said. "five more minutes."  
  
"You said that five minutes ago," Ponner said.  
  
 McCoy raised his head up. "Five minutes. . . and then I will be up," He held up his five fingers. "I promise."  
  
 "Len," Polly said. "You are not going to be late for this one."  
  
 "They called us regarding you being late," Ponner said. "you shouldn't be drinking their beverage. Could be alcohol. Could be lethal to your liver and they don't know how to repair liver damage, yet."  
  
 "I am just drinkin' water, milk, and orange juice and eatin' exactly the way I should," McCoy protested. "I don't drink the way I did before."  
  
"Some people drink to drown the sorrow they are in," Pollly said. "Cindy is making us breakfast."  
  
The two women lifted the doctor off the bed, and suddenly, he thrashed demanding to be dropped. The doctor skated to the corner of the room feeling his heart beat against his chest feeling like he was being threatened. The women shared concerned, worried expressions with each other alarmed.  They slowly approached the doctor as images flashed before his eyes. Dark images. He remembered being lifted into the chair. He was scared that they were going to come again. But it was over. But it felt like it wasn't over. Not entirely over.  
  
"Doctor. . . are you all right?" He didn't hear them as he could hear the purple leader's voice.  
  
"Oh dear god, he has trauma," Polly said.  
  
"So that is what he meant by sanctity of his mind," Ponner said.  
  
"CINDY, don't cook Len's!" Polly said, at the doorway to McCoy's bedroom.  
  
"All right!" Cindy called back. "What 'sup?"  
  
"He is having a bad flash back, wait at least, ten minutes," Polly said.  
  
"Okay,"  Cindy said. "your egg is cracked."  
  
"Then I am good with it!" Polly replied.

"Sorry, Len," Ponner said, coming to the man's side. "we didn't know you were traumatized," as her friend came to her side. "we have been drinking the water that is safe for us. The specialized package one," she looked over toward Polly. "Right?"

"Right," Polly said, coming to the man's side.  She noticed on the counter beside the bed there was a set of ear plugs. The women had a sleep over with the doctor last night with games the natives had in the stores. She looked over in the direction of Ponner. "why didn't he tell us this before?"

"We never touched him during the games," Ponner said. Her eyes rested on the man. "it's okay, Len, you are okay, you are safe, you are not in danger. It's okay," she reached her hand out toward his shoulder but she stopped mid-way recalling how he reacted to being touched. "it's all right, Len."

It was especially painful.

Our view went over to the kitchen.

Jackie was sitting at the table waiting for the others.

"When do you think the doctor will finally get  to a appointment on time, Waterstone?" Jackie asked.

"When he doesn't feel like trash," Cindy said. "or. .." she turned toward the woman. "that he feels better."

"If his boyfriend comes around then that might change," Jackie said. "Vulcans are quite capable of repairing damage that we can't repair."

"Yes, they are," Cindy said. "he went through hell while we went through a storm."

"A part of me envies him," Jackie said.

"Is being mentally harmed better than losing an arm?" Cindy asked.

"Yes," Jackie said, with a nod. "at least Abbi Blackman is more capable of living with another prosthetic."

"And you?" Cindy asked.

"I am getting the prosthetic today," Jackie said. "they made a cast yesterday."

"Hmm," Cindy said. She waved her hand slightly. "I am in the neutral zone regarding getting a prosthetic."

"Long as I can be a security officer, I don't care," Jackie said.

"I am thinking of changing my career track," Cindy said, placing the plate onto the table.

"To what?" Jackie raised an eyebrow. 

"Science Officers normally remain on the ship," Cindy said.

"That," Jackie nodded. "you are scared of getting stranded on a planet like this, again?"

"I am terrified," Cindy said. "but I know being on a ship means the chances of it are highly unlikely."

"So that's the thing that is keeping you in star fleet," Jackie said, as a smile grew on her face. "I heard some of the others were considering of early retirement."

"Early retirement," Cindy shook her head. "that is understandable."

"Not many officers find out that Star Fleet takes the most danger prone individuals and ditch them on a planet," Jackie said. She cut at her egg using a fork.

"Star Fleet wouldn't do that!" Cindy said, turning away from the stove appearing to be insulted. 

"A unhinged Admiral would," Jackie said. "don't deny it. We have some admirals up there who break morals and we don't know it all the time because there are covers ups."

"We have to talk about it," Cindy said. "if. . ."

"We will," Jackie said. "I don't think Len  will find it comfortable talking about the hell he went through on live TV."

"I wouldn't be comfortable," Cindy said.  "but he has to tell someone what happened to him."

"He needs to get into counseling," Jackie said.

"How do we do that without trampling over what he does not want and his rights?" Cindy asked.

"I feel that we won't need to wait long for him to get into counseling," Jackie said.

"Hm?" Cindy said, raising a brow then turned in the direction of the stove.

"Just a gut feeling," Jackie shrugged. "like our rescue ship is close by."  
  
"I hope it is," Cindy said, cracking another egg into the circular light orange but pinkish pan. Our view panned into space where we can see the Enterprise soaring through the canvas of stars and darkness. "because the doctor feels like he really needs a cuddle session with plenty of hugs from his loved ones." The view slid forward toward one of the windows.   
  
"Imagine how hard that would be for him," Jackie said, as our camera  went through the window to see a laboratory with Spock leaning forward toward a telescope of some sort. The Enterprise was coming closer to a planet. "and a relief to see them again. .  . Time would only tell how his recovery would go with love and support."   
  
_The padd glowed with the text 'you have mail'  in white colors._  
  
"Yes," Cindy said. "it would."  
  
 _Spock looked over raising a slanted eyebrow and slid his finger on the screen._   
  
"Look who the cat dragged in!" Ponner's voice called.   
  
_Spock stared at the screen and he sensed the doctor's presence was nearby but not enough._   
  
"Good morning, Len!" Jackie said, with a smile looking over toward the doctor with a bad morning head. 

_"Ashayam?" Spock looked over toward the window._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to write his trauma well and I am not sure if I did justice to it. To anyone who has underwent trauma, is this . . . well. . . Not insulting? Did I do it write? Write it right? I am unsure of myself.


	52. Chapter 52

Sanchallus's people were grateful for the involvement of the  federation and as it turned out, they had achieved warp drive. They were more willing to enter the federation than anything else. After they fixed their internal problems. Such as executive orders that undid everything that their impostering gods had passed. They preferred to call themselves the Greegayans. Jim's fling with Sanchallus ended after the away mission. Spock watched the two flirt, pin on each other, the way they looked at each other,  the way Jim touched her, and kissed in the corridor near the botany labs. Not that Spock was bothered by it. But it made him yearn for the doct or.  
  
"Why hello there, sugah," Nyota said, as she slid into the chair at the chess table. "Captain not in the mood for chess?"  
  
"He is taking pleasure in reading a paper  back novel," Spock said. "his recent person of interest has left him inclused."  
  
"His loss," Nyota said. "would you prefer 3-D Chess or normal chess?"  
  
"Whichever you can play on," Spock said.  
  
She danced her thin, delicate eyebrows back at the man with a beaming smile.  
  
"I can do both," Nyota said.  
  
"You begin," Spock said.  
  
"Why thank you," Nyota made the first move then tapped on the timer. She placed her hands under her chin looking at the Vulcan like he was a marvelous historical figure from a painting made long ago. "watch your six, tiger."  
  
Spock tilted his head.  
  
"Hmm, a human's way of challenging," Spock said, then he reached forward moving his pieces. He tapped on the small machine along  the chess table. "quite an illogical way of forewarning."  
  
"But it works," Nyota said, making her next move with a black pawn. She pressed the button.    
  
"Not at all, Uhura," Spock said. "it does the opposite," the Vulcan reached forward moving the chess piece. He captured her pawn. "it makes your opponent more determined on check mating you. And. . ." he pressed the  button alongside the chess. "you should be the one concerned about your six in a game of chess with me."  
  
"I trust you won't be easy on me," Nyota said, making her move. "that's the challenge of the game. To have fun."  
  
"And patience," Spock said  He watched the lieutenant hit the button.

"Yes," Nyota said.  
  
Spock made his move.  
  
"You are a impeccable player," Spock said. He pressed the button to the machine.  
  
"As are you," Nyota said.  
  
She surveyed the 3-D Chess Board.  She eyed at it rubbing her chin. Then she reached her hand forward and made her move. The two stared at the chess board with gaps of time between making their moves. Spock captured the queen knocking the black item to the side of the table. Nyota leaned back folding her arms appearing to be amused. Spock reorganized the table with a simple, "You made a fair challenge."  
  
"I never played against someone like you before," Nyota said,  
  
"I am a rarity that is not in a abundance," Spock said. "what am I?"  
  
"Hmm," Nyota said. "I would say. . . courage."

"Correct," Spock said.

"So, was the Kurllan cleared from the lab?" Nyota asked. "A cute little furball with long, stick like legs?"  
  
"It has been vetted thoroughly," Spock said. "the pairs have been sent to the zoology department for further study," he cocked an eyebrow back at her. "have you came up with ghost ship calls?"  
  
"A few," Nyota said, shaking her hand.  "but mainly in Klingon Esophagus ships."  
  
"Klingon sleeper ships?" Spock asked.  
  
"A skeleton crew," Nyota said. "I guess," she shook her head. "they were terrified.  . . Missing. . . lost in space. . . No one to care," she shook her head sadly. "we help them raise the frequencies out and keep their message going. . .  To reach their own kin."  
  
"Sentimental," Spock said.  
  
"Very sentimental," Nyota said.  "how is that. . ." she paused, looking back at him. "link?"  
  
"I sense him," Spock said. "and he sent a very romantic poem that was in queue."  
  
Nyota gasped covering her mouth.

"Oh my stars," Nyota said. "he came back to life."

"That it appears so," Spock said. "like Lazarus."  
  
"Spock, that is amazing," Nyota said. "no one has the chance of getting their loved ones back from death," Spock nodded his head. "it is another shot at romance."  
  
"The next time  I have him in my sights," Spock said. "I am not going to leave him alone."  
  
"I would do the same if it were my girlfriend," Nyota said. "May we play another round?"

"Yes," Spock said.

"You start this time," Nyota said. There was a pleased glimmer in the Vulcan's eye.

Spock nodded.

"Different tactic this round," Spock noted, out loud.


	53. Chapter 53

The planet, Dent-A, had many continents.

But there was one in particular that stood out to it.

One continent had been destroyed.

There was another that had been halfway destroyed from trees to buildings to everything in its way. An estimated two million loss. Both continents were radiating in radiation that would take time to vanish. There was metal floating around the planet from long ago exploits into space. There was a full operating odd, unique space station in orbit along the planet that seemed to be abandoned. They had detected warp drive from the planet.  The Enterprise had passed at least thirteen dozen probes on the way to the sister planets. And here they were standing at what could be defined as a historical land mark that had a statue robed by a dress and a small jacket  looking eerily human than alien. There was a plague underneath that was in a long, no longer used language. It looked like Egyptian. The three security officers, Jefferson, Reynolds, and Hendol looked around observing in curiosity.

Spock could feel a strong, heavy sense of the doctor's presence but it felt so far away.  
  
"Mr Spock?" Jim asked.  
  
"I believe we are in a wildlife park," Spock said.  
  
"A wildlife park. . ." Jim said. He beamed looking at the statues of the native animals. "what a nice wildlife park."

"We are in the heart of it, Captain," Hendol said. "by my reckoning, at least."  
  
"What is the shit is that?" Jefferson asked.  
  
Lo' and behold ahead, there was a moose with a ridges along the side of its chest and long legs that were coated in long fine strands of hair that reminded the away team of ponies. The legs were sticks that were walking except they lacked branches. It had a big snout as well with three holes rather than two. The moose had elongated, sharp and dark antlers that formed a rack. It was twice their size around seven foot three. It had four sets of eyes. The lower set were normal sized except the upper set were smaller. Spock raised an eyebrow at the marvelous, tall creature with a large coat of fur. The Vulcan lowered his eyebrow.  
  
 "I would say that is a moose but that isn't a moose," Reynolds said.  
  
"It looks like a moose, Lieutenant," Jim said.  
  
"It looks a different variation of a moose," Spock said, scanning the creature with his tricorder.  
  
"Walks like a moose," Hendol said.  
  
The moose was chewing on the large grass set along a bench. The moose raised its head up staring back at the group. It walked right past them. The group made their way down the park's paved path. They passed by dull, but gentle colored attire on purple people ranging in height and weight. Almost as though they were on the 21st century met 23rd century with the buildingscape. The purple natives stepped back with widened eyes gasping at the away team. Jim knelt down to a flower and smelled it. The scent was nice while the leaves were gentle and soft. Jim looked cute when he admired the flowers. No flower was left untouched or left not smelled when it came to the captain.  They continued to make their way forward as Jim had taken one of the flowers in one hand.

"Nice place to have a date, is it not?" Jim asked.  
  
"Excellent place for dating," Spock said. "Mr Reynolds, I trust you would think otherwise."  
  
"Some of these plants might be poison us," Reynolds said. "I lost  a girlfriend to the grass on Centaur IV."  
  
"Sometimes the best romantic place is the next place not to visit," Spock said.  
  
Jim admired the Vulcan with a softened expression on his face.  
  
"If you say so," Jim said, twirling the small flower in his hand.  
  
Reynolds rolled an eye.  
  
_When are they going to hook up and stop the flirting?_ Reynolds thought to himself. 

He was wishing that all the pining the captain was doing would just end. The man radiated love all over and a aura that brought people around him under his command. That was the part the man enjoyed about being under the man's command. He respected and loved his crew. Cared, too much, that is. But he didn't get emotionally exhausted by the grief of losing them all. Lieutenant Commander Spock was making sure the human stayed rational and quite logical in private regarding the losses. He had seen the pair go somewhere private on their last away mission on the loss of a security officer a few days ago.  
  
The small away team came to the exit where they could see suspiciously like police vehicles hovering inches above the ground. There were men and women standing alongside the vehicles that were parked up front holding what appeared to be miniature versions of squirt guns except they were black. They had helmets with screens. Spock's sense of the doctor grew stronger. The uniforms were similar to what records were left of security officers uniforms had been over thirty years ago. They were dark uniforms that was a two piece that seemed to have a stuffy jacket that had puffy shoulders.  
  
"Stop, and stand where you are," the purple police officer said. "we are the United Dent-Arian Defense Force and don't you fucking move without our permission."  
  
"Poor choice of words," Spock remarked. "there are better words in your language to do use."  
  
"Mr Spock," Jim looked over toward the Vulcan. The tricorder was off.  
  
"Yes, there is," the purple police officer said. "but we have gone through shit because of aliens from space and we are not taking any risks with you until all of you are scanned," her eyes stared through them. "the other Hoo-mans and alien don't count because of the war we were going through."  
  
Jim and Spock shared a glance to each other.

"I am James Tiberus Kirk of the USS Enterprise," Jim said, shaking his hands in self defense. "we come in peace."  
  
A  pair of drones came out of the sky from above the crew  that resembled legless spiders.  
  
"If you do come in peace," the purple police officer said. "just stand still."  
  
A blue light emitted from the series of drones that scanned members individually.  
  
The lights vanished back into the drones.  
  
"Scan: clean," a female voice came from the drones.  
  
"State the mission," the purple police officer said.  
  
"The Shuttle Craft Robyn, there were sixteen people aboard it," Jim said.  "and we are your welcoming party for interstellar travel from Star Fleet, part of a United Federation of Planets, and we are explorers."  
  
The officers lowered their guns.  
  
"Explorers, huh?" the purple police officer said. "then why did you dump sixteen of your own into a war zone and not take them back after they were done exploring?"  
  
"A honest to Earth mistake," Jim said, stepping forward. "this is my first officer, Lieutenant Commander S'Chn T'Gai Spock and these are my security detail," the security officers waved a hand at the group. "we would like to meet with the leaders of your planet."  
  
The leading purple officer looked over toward the others.  
  
"Now that. . . can be arranged," the purple police officer said.

A loud, high pitched sneeze came from Spock. 


	54. Chapter 54

"Thank ya, Doctor Telulionie," McCoy said.  
  
"No, thank you, Doctor McCoy. . ." Telulionie said. "I never met a person with a problem like yours,"  
  
"Doctors have worked around worse," McCoy said.  
  
"Not touching. . all done with a machine,"  Telulionie said. "that is a dream you probably have accomplished."  
  
"Not the way ya do it," McCoy said, as Telulionie handed him a pair of ear plugs.  
  
"Make sure you don't get into traffic without these," Telulionie warned. "it might bring up memories of the field like it did earlier."  
  
McCoy nodded.  
  
"I learned my lesson," McCoy said. "Audios."

The doctor turned away putting the ear plugs into his ears that blocked out sound.

"Audios. . ." Telulionie said. He looked over toward the screen to see breaking news insagnia on the screen. He went over to his couch once the doors had closed and sat down  rubbing his chin.  He picked up the cup full of water then started to drink. A pink human and a green devil like being appeared on the screen. Telulionie spat out what he was drinking slack jawed listening to the new. "I can't believe there is more of this poor hoo-man."

* * *

The scene of the gray, series of support beams were the first thing the camera saw including the spaces displaying the yard. It resembled the white house yet it was different with the designs and carvings on it. We can see a wheelchair alongside  a support beam.  From through the automatic doors in formal attire that were like dresses were Jim and Spock. Jim was holding a glass finishing a conversation about something regarding,  "Dent-Arians will fit in nicely." He finished the glass placing it onto the nearby table.

"Commander Ripley," Jim said, warmly greeting the formally dressed security officer.  
  
Spock sneezed.  
  
"Bless you, Lieutenant,"  Ripley said. "and captain. . ." he held a hand out that was  made of metal. "it is a honor to meet you."  
  
"Good job  keeping your team alive," Jim said.  
  
"Credit goes to the Vulcan," Ripley said. "Mr Plass has been . . well. . . quite a leading force."  
  
"Where is he?" Jim asked.  Spock sneezed, again.  
  
"Last I heard the man decided to organize a ceremonial event for Fellis and Eric," Ripley said. "they decided to get married on this planet."  
  
"Congratulations to the lucky couple," Jim said.  
  
Spock came to the commander's other side.  
  
"Do you know where the doctor lives?" Spock inquired.  
  
"Not really," Ripley said, stopping the wheelchair. "I. . ." he briefly closed his eyes. "when I look at him . . . I just feel guilty . . . That I didn't have a member of my team dispatched with the doctor."  
  
"Why?" Jim asked. "What happened?"  
  
Ripley had a shaky sigh.  
  
"I . . can't really talk about it. . ."  Ripley said. "he doesn't really talk about it. Just said that he didn't have the sanctity of his mind."

Spock was deeply disturbed feeling his hand clench around his wrist.  
  
"How so?" Jim asked.  
  
"Well, my commander was so disturbed that he left the conversation," Ripley said. "it was a fe hours later that I did see him again," he smiled at the Vulcan. "you know, with all the shit Len went through,  you'll be a welcome face."  
  
Jim and Spock shared a glance, of concern, together then back toward Ripley.  
  
"What exactly happened here, Commander?" Jim asked.  
  
"They didn't tell you?" Ripley asked.  
  
"None at all," Jim said.  
  
"Well," Ripley said. "from what I learned, there's a circular gate located in one of the locations on this planet. Currently being under constant guard," he twirled his finger into a circle. "A bunch of Goa'uld," Jim's eyes widened, slightly and his mouth slightly fell, "came here hundreds of years ago," Spock tilted his head. "with a fleet of small triangle ships. They were fleeing from the Jaffa and Stargate Command's war. They came with  a queen. So naturally, they ducked low in stasis pods for a good hundred years.  Then they slowly, but gradually, began to take control over a continent. Political wise and control wise," he twirled his finger. "the Jaffa they were controlling died a hundred years ago. They were sent to death by the justice system when they promoted senseless murder, xenophobia, and racism," he shook his head. "the serpents survived. They gained power by ambushing, blackmail, and attacking others with their missiles with a hot pink individual who wore a toupee. Eventually, the whole continent was swarming with them. There was a fierce campaign that began with learning on how to remove them, safely, preserving the lives of the host. People died. . . Sadly."  
  
"That sounds strikingly familiar," Spock said. "given your species history."  
  
"History repeats itself," Jim said.  
  
"How unfortunate," Spock sneezed, again.  
  
"The leader bounced to her husband," Ripley said. "after the untimely death of the host."

"And where did you come in?" Jim asked.

"Len was involved at the end," Ripley said. "how. . . we do not know. Had to be wearing healing bands for a few hours."

Ripley took out his small padd.  
  
"You have their numbers?" Jim asked.  
  
"Some of them, I do," Ripley said. "mainly Ryan, Fellis, Cindy, Blackman, and Eric. We split up."  
  
"Tell them to meet you here," Jim said. "I will have your crew beamed up soon as they get here."  
  
"And can you ask if they know where the doctor is?" Spock asked.  
  
"Sure," Ripley jotted down on the small see through screen. "you know.  .  . I won't mind going to a starbase or a space station awaiting transport to HQ," he smiled looking toward the two men. "because then we can be prepared for the trial," he finished jotting on the screen sending it as a mass email. "except for the doctor. . ."

The two men nodded.

"It must be bad," Jim said. "we will see what counselors can do for him."

"No, not counselors," Ripley said. "he needs Vulcan healers. Then counselors."

* * *

 _"He is going to be there," Cindy had reassued Spock._  
  
Petting red panda's. Quite literally, they were pandas but red and black. They did not resemble their namesakes that were ferrets that were more than capable of standing up on their two back feet with white portions along their whiskers. McCoy had entered a therapeutic program for soft, small baby animals. The sixteen crewmembers were beamed aboard the  Enterprise. Spock was horrified to see T'Plass face. It became quite clear that the Vulcan deserved a promotion for dealing with humans alone for a month and ensuing their survival. The vehicle came to a stop.  
  
"Are you ready, Mr Spock?" Jim asked, looking over toward the Vulcan.  
  
"I am ready as I will ever be," Spock said, unbuckling himself. He was in his science blues while Jim was in his yellow uniform. They got out of the taxi vehicle together then looked at each other. "Jim. . ." the Vulcan started. "the women informed me that it would be unwise to touch him."  
  
"I won't," Jim said.  
  
"And to gain his trust again. . . . we must let him decide to reach out," Spock said. "restrain yourself."  
  
"Who am I to question people who know what they are talking about?" Jim asked, one hand on the Vulcan's shoulder had folded arms against his chest. "don't have to tell me a third time." the human took his hand back.  
  
The Vulcan sneezed.  
  
"You getting a cold?" Jim asked.  
  
"Allergies," Spock said, as they went into the zoo that had see through projection fields that were long and wide enough for the animals to roam.  "and if it were the cold then my nose would be stuffy and I would be unable to perform my duties."  
  
"That is true," Jim said. "I never seen you sick before."  
  
"Vulcans do not get sick," Spock said.  
  
"You are a hybrid," Jim said. He smiled at the Vulcan. "don't press your luck."  
  
"I will not tempt fate," Spock said.  
  
Jim and Spock resumed their trek through the scenery till they came to a map of the enclosures. Spock scanned it then went toward the left. Jim tagged along. He honestly looked forward to see the reunion. It had been too long since the two men had been together. And he initially believed Spock and  McCoy would be sharing messages across the region of space. They passed by several purple visitors. Spock raised several his eyebrows at the animals. There were snakes coated in thick scales, birds covered in hard tough skin and massive wings that were thin except for the actual part that flew in the air. They had a unique counterpart to the ostrich with a long neck, four sets of eyes, pitch black fur, and pink legs. They had a horn on the top of their bill.  
  
They came to a stop at a therapeutic enclosure.  There were several large, puffy red pandas surrounding McCoy as he gently stroked the animal's fur while leaned against the tree bark. There were other purple patients among him cuddling with the animals. The doctor appeared to be relaxed. From across, they could see red pandas that resembled the actual pandas except they were like ferrets rather than pandas. They were white and black. Spock and Jim shared a glance. Jim stroked the Vulcan's shoulder with a kind expression on his face.  Spock was like a lonely Doberman Pinscher compared to Jim who was more of a golden retriever kind of person.  
  
"Go join him," Jim said, his hands locked behind his bag lookingly at Spock lovingly and encouragingly. Then added to himself, _you dog_.

The only thing left of Spock was a trail of dust.


	55. Chapter 55

McCoy wasn't sure if this was real when he first took out the ear plugs. Or if he was hallucinating seeing a Vulcan that he knew too well. Spock was restraining himself from touching the human, which in every way, was logical if the lieutenant knew what he was suffering. He couldn't believe the Vulcan was sitting next to him, with a red panda in his lap, with big dopey eyes that normally he wouldn't see on a Vulcan. Maybe it was McCoy who was personalizing the Vulcan as a big emotional, living puddle of oil personified into a alien version of an elf.  He still couldn't believe it was real appearing on the transporter padd feeling like his intestines had gone to a barn dance and came back jolly. He couldn't believe that he was holding his duffle bag being greeted by Mr Scott right after stepping off the transporter padd.  
  
"Welcome tae the  Enterprise, Doctor," Scotty said, with his arm around the shorter alien by his side.  
  
"Why hello there, Scotty," McCoy said.  
  
"If ya need any tour, ya can ask moi," Scotty said. "and here's a housewarmin' present." the scotsman handed the human a full bottle of Romulan Ale.  
  
"Oh my god," McCoy started, as his eyes widened. "where did ya get this?"  
  
"I have my sources," Scotty winked. "can't name them."  
  
"All right," McCoy said. "if I retire early, will ya tell me?"  
  
"Nae chance," Scotty said.  
  
"I will find it on my own, likely," McCoy said, walking toward the doorway.  
  
"AND OH, WE SHARE THE SAME BATHROOM!" Scotty hollered.  
  
McCoy stopped.  
  
"Oh dear," the human rubbed his forehead with a hand then exited the transporter room. He had a feeling that if he stayed, he would have to look forward toward Scotty brewing alcohol somewhere on the ship and not get caught. "look what ya got ya'self into, now."  
  
"Yeah, look where you got yourself into now," Came Ripley's voice from behind him.  
  
"Commander!" McCoy said, turning in the direction of the man. "How are ya?"  
  
"Better," Ripley said. "We are going to find out which admiral brought misery upon us and frankly, T'Plass won't admit it, but he is happy as a cricket."  
  
"Figures," McCoy said.  
  
"They don't know what happened down there, and neither do I," Ripley told McCoy. "you should tell someone what you went through."  
  
"I will," McCoy said. "when I feel comfortable."  
  
There was a long, but loud sneeze clear across from the room.  
  
"Doctor," Ripley said, staring back at him with a long face. "it will help you to heal, in the heart, but not the head . . . talk with your boyfriend so we don't have to worry about you."  
  
"Hey now," McCoy said. "since when did you and the others start worryin' about me?"  
  
"Since you graced back into our lives weeks after being gone," Ripley said.  
  
"Okay, I deserve that," McCoy said. "and if anythin'  let me do the worryin'."  
  
"I was coming to check up on you," Ripley said. "but I am assured. . . that you are going to be just fine," the man smiled back at the doctor. "don't pay attention to the news in the upcoming weeks," he waved his hand. "it'll be bombshell after bombshell."  
  
"I will make sure to do that,  Commander," McCoy said, with a warm nod.  

"I will see you at the next space station," Ripley said. "good luck. . ." he stared, meaningfully, back at the doctor. "and don't be afraid."  
  
Ripley used the support chair to hover away from the man.   
  
"Who says I will?" McCoy asked, with a frown watching the man float away. 


	56. Chapter 56

Jim entered the quarters of McCoy. His duffle bag was laid on the counter and the doctor was laid on the couch with his face into a pillow snoring away. Jim looked over at the doctor in amusement. T'Plass had visited McCoy earlier to make a farewell. It was short, that, the captain could determine. Vulcan's had a tendency to latch onto the doctor and befriend him. It seemed that way to the captain. And Spock was falling sick.  
  
"I trust you are feeling right at home," Jim said.  
  
"What?" McCoy bolted up, his eyes wide, staring back at the human after flipping out off the couch.  "ah, captain--Jim, sorry, I nearly forgot that's what you prefer not be called," he sat on the edge of the couch. "been too long since we actually talked."  
  
"Yes, that it has," Jim said. "are you going to stay or leave? If your trauma personally effects you that dearly. . ."  
  
"My trauma does not define me," McCoy said.  
  
"Then why were you wearing ear plugs?" Jim asked, sitting on the arm rest of the couch across from the doctor.  
  
"I don't like loud noises," McCoy said. "honkin', cars, and generally, anything' disruptive. Might go down to the federation colony and actually finish out what I was supposed to be doin' in the first place!" he leaned into the cough  with his arms folded. "I mean what kind of rotten asshole would do such a thing?"  
  
"I don't know," Jim said. "but they thought that they were doing something right and they were wrong."  
  
"Damn right they are," McCoy said. "I don't trust people anymore. . . to touch me. . ." the doctor briefly sighed. "I don't trust bein' in a forest, alone, I just don't," he combed through his long grown hair.  "and don't say any shit about not bein' alone in the foreseeable future with Spock."  
  
"I wasn't going to say that," Jim said. "I understand where you are coming  from."  
  
"You?" McCoy asked. "Trumatized?" It seemed laughable at first  
  
"I was part of the Tarsus Nine," Jim said.  
  
"Oh," McCoy's face grew long, and sad. "that . . was.. . not. . . even close to what I was in."  
  
"I don't need to know," Jim said. "all I know is that you are recovering from the aftershocks."  
  
"Yes," McCoy said. "aftershocks," he looked up. "What was it like for ya to recover?"  
  
"A long and difficult recovery," Jim said. "learning that I didn't need to eat everything on my plate. Didn't take a long to recover my body weight afterwards," he had a laugh at himself. "and find myself again."  
  
"Starvin', dirty, and watchin' people die execution style," McCoy said. "ya never told anyone about this?"  
  
"Spock," Jim said. "Spock was there. But he wasn't selected."  
  
"I am sorry for your loss," McCoy said. "your childhood ruined. . . just like that."  
  
"It didn't ruin my childhood," Jim said. "it gave me pain and I need that pain to be the person I am today."  
  
"Mine is not the pain you want to live with," McCoy said.  
  
"It is never easy living when you have seen people you know, dying, or people you don't know, and you could be helping them,"  Jim said. "but you can't, you can't help them because they are more willing to die with dignity or things are out of control," he cleared his throat. McCoy felt himself tremble feeling like he could relate to that. Watching through his eyes watching the serpents use him to kill others. Fighting against them to prevent them from doing so. He wasn't all successful. Their misses gave him life. Their successes gave him fury and reason to fight harder over the control for his body. "I had to eat people. What you went through must be more difficult to wrap around.  . ." McCoy looked over as though the man had just spilled his guts out before the doctor. "I know how that feels."

"Ya didn't need to say that," McCoy said.  
  
"I had," Jim said. "you are not the only survivor who had to make tough choices."  
  
McCoy briefly closed his eyes.  
  
"Ya lucky that it wasn't ya," McCoy said. "I feel like trash."  
  
Jim started to reach his hand out to comfort the man but he lowered his hand placing it onto his lap.  
  
Instead, the captain sat alongside the doctor.  
  
McCoy was in his civilianware not his medical blues.  
  
"It's okay to feel like that," Jim said. "you know what is more okay?"  
  
"Bein' sad?" McCoy asked.  
  
"That," Jim said, holding his thumb up.  "Being angry."  
  
"How is that helpful?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Because it means you are healing," Jim put his hand onto the edge of the couch behind the doctor. "despite what they say, it really helps," McCoy could see sincerity in the man's eyes. Not a sign of deception. Like he, too, had done this method to help himself. "We have a holodeck section dedicated to the boxing ring complete with dummies."  
  
"I will think about that," McCoy said.  
  
"Great," Jim said, then he bounced up to his feet and straightened his golden uniform down. He started to head down.  
  
"Kid," McCoy said, earning a turn from the man. "ya can call me Bones."

Jim smiled, warmly, back at the man.   
  
"All right, Bones," Jim said, then he left the quarters.   
  
McCoy went into the bathroom, took out a pair of scissors, and looked at himself. He hadn't looked at himself for days since the serpents had taken control of him. When he looked at that face, he could see someone else looking back at him. The doctor trembled, terrified, then leaned forward. He briefly closed his eyes, again, feeling anger. He had seen the man touch himself without his consent, he had seen him take advantage of his body parts, and seen him be indecent with others. All without his consent. He didn't if the person staring back at him was a healer or a killer.  He had stared through these two eyes for too long as an outsider rather than the owner. The beard looked,well, odd on him,   
  
Keenser came in.   
  
"Hi," Keenser said.   
  
McCoy looked over toward the shorter man,   
  
"Can ya give hair cuts and not touch?" McCoy asked.  
  
"Yes," Keenser said.   
  
McCoy took out a small padd and showed him the hair style he wanted.   
  
"Can ya give me a hair cut after ya take a piss?" McCoy said.   
  
"Sure," Keenser said.   
  
"Thank ya," McCoy leaned up as the short alien green man went over to the toilet. The doctor sighed in relief then went over to a stool where he sat down and allowed himself to relax. He hadn't shaved what of a beard he had grown. He could feel the length it had grown since he had been through everything.    
  
"But the beard must go," Keenser said. "I will take care of that."  
  
"Then we are good," McCoy said, as a smile crept on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heart to heart featuring McKirk! Hope you enjoyed, I HOPE THIS NEXT CHAPTER IS THE LAST AAHAHHHH!!!


	57. Chapter 57

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE DOCTOR IS BACK IN THE HOUSE!

The medical blues rested on the bed.  
  
McCoy was shirtless.  
  
McCoy sighed.  
  
"Come on, Len," McCoy said. "ya a doctor. Ya left Earth because of her. Trauma ain't takin' space away."  
  
It had been ten hours since the Enterprise left Dent-A.  
  
McCoy slid the shirt over his figure. He felt around for the backside until he felt the zipped. He sat down on the edge of the bed sliding the silver, cold zipper up. McCoy finally hitched it up until it binded the fabric together. McCoy pulled the shirt down then went into the bathroom once more to check his figure. Scotty got out of the sonic shower then went to the sink. He  looked over to see the already dressed doctor with clean, short hair and a womanly like figure staring at the mirror rubbing at his chin. Scotty nearly jumped out of his skin to  see someone entirely new in the doctors place. McCoy had to gain some weight back. A smile grew on the doctor's face.  
  
His first day on duty.  
  
"Ye look fine,  doctor," Scotty said.  
  
McCoy looked over, weary, but comforted.  
  
"Ya too," McCoy said.  
   
"Since when dae ye get up late?" Scotty said.  
  
"Since livin' out in the forest and listenin' to frogs that start screaming at a unforsaken hour," McCoy said. "like ya think they would stop."  
  
Scotty began to put his black socks on.  
  
"That kind of frogs," Scotty said. "nae the best kind of neighbors."    
  
"Ya can say that again," McCoy said, heading out as the Scotsman put on his briefs falling over to the floor with a smack.

"I am okay!" Scotty said.

* * *

Christine smiled seeing the doctor at the desk looking at the computer screen studying the physiology to his three hundred ninety patients. He has not count himself as a patient. He didn't know if his previous alien patient on Dent-A was alive or whoever was with them. He paused the screen, looking up toward the woman. On the desk was a picture of his mother, his father, himself, and Donna. Another of his daughter, Joanna, in her cadet reds giving the peace out sign with her roommate Harriet. She looked happy. The McCoy Family refused to believe to the news about the loss of Leonard. He couldn't be dead. Preposterous.  
  
"Hello, Nurse," McCoy said. "nice to see ya again. I take nothin' severe happened this week."  
  
"Not really," Christine said.  
  
"Oh good," McCoy said.  
  
"Dr M'Benga fell for a mermaid," Christine said. "he is on his way to visit her."  
  
"Ah ha," McCoy said. "the first thin' a tired doctor does is go after his alien girlfriend."  
  
"Just a few days away," Christine said. "it's quite reasonable."  
  
"Reasonable," McCoy said, with a nod.  "yes."  
  
"Mr Spock is weathering the cold," Christine said.  
  
McCoy raised his thinned, well trimmed eyebrows.  
  
"Mr Spock is sick?" the words fell from his lips. That was startling.  But then became as no surprise.    
  
Christine nodded.  
  
"Doctor M'Benga took Spock off duty before he left," Christine said.  "He is  a good doctor," McCoy said.  
  
"That he is," Christine said, in agreement.  "tell me, what is the planet like?"  
  
"It's a lot like Earth but with more weird as hell alien native animals," McCoy said. "Good forest."

"And?" Christine asked.

"Tall plants," McCoy said. 

"Must have tall big foots," Christine said.

"Plausibly," McCoy said. "we'll find out soon enough," the doctor had a short laugh at it. "Soil, ya can grow a corn there in less than a few days, and transplant them to different soil if need be. The wildlife all have two pairs of eyes and they look natural with it," he shook his head. "don't understand why it became a evolutionary must for it. The Dent-Arians don't have four eyes but a pair much like ours," he looked fondly into the distance. "cute animals regardless."  
  
"You must really like it," Christine said.  
  
"When I retire, I am visitin' there," McCoy said. "now if ya excuse me," he had one hand on the keyboard. "I have to finish gettin' up to date regardin' the various phyisiology my patients have."  
  
"Do that, Doctor," Christine said, then went past him.  
  
"And then I am goin' to check up on my patient," McCoy said. "say, what is healthy for a sick Vulcan?"  
  
"Plomeek Soup," Christine said.  
  
And that was part of what was elevating the doctor from his 'I feel like trash' mood.

"Excellent," McCoy said. "just what the nurse ordered." Christine smiled to herself, organizing the hyposprays from where they had been misplaced.

* * *

 

Love has many symptoms. Feeling like you were invincible to the entire world.  Like you could fly.  Like you could travel space and time just for them.  As though you could do anything that you set your mind to.  Like you would never harm the person of your life, ever, over your dead body. That would risk your life to ensure their safety. Love is known as  many things to many species and cultures.  But it all remained the same.  Respect and affection toward each other. The people on the Enterprise who understood love in its various forms was mainly Captain Kirk, Spock, and Doctor McCoy. Love uplifted them. Highlighted their most inner characteristics and it gave them power to plow on.   
  
McCoy whistled to himself walking down the corridor.  
  
As it turned out, the quarters that separated him and Spock was Jim's.  
  
He went through the doors entering the science officers quarters. There was Vulcan objects here and there about the room  including a lute. There was a somewhat loud, but short small sneeze that sounded a lot like a cat sneezing. McCoy took a turn passing through the living room. Spock was blowing his nose into a tissue with glassy eyes and he seemed to have a stuffy nose. He dropped the dripping wet item into a dispensary object discarded on the side of the counter beside his bed. He seemed to have messy hair McCoy could see the Vulcan's hairy, dark curly chest. The doctor sat down alongside the Vulcan in  a comfort, padded chair.  
  
"So much for never gettin' sick," McCoy said.  
  
"That was a fluke," Spock said, his voice sounded high pitched.  
  
"Ya got it bad," McCoy said, putting the tray onto the Vulcan's lap.  
  
Spock's eyes landed on the human's face.  
  
"There is the face I fell in love with," Spock said, his brown eyes fixed on the baby blue ones.  
  
"Ya tall sap," McCoy said. "start drinkin' up."

"Doctor," Spock said, picking up the spoon. "when you wish to talk about what you went through. . ." the Vulcan took a sip. "I am--" he sneezed again into a new tissue. "willing to be your listening ear."  
  
"It's nothin' like Tarsus IV," McCoy said. "let's get that clear. . . nice of Jim to try comfortin' me by sharin' his story. . ." the doctor smiled at the thought that crossed his mind. "It made me feel I wasn't the only one who went through similar trauma."  
  
"I will not judge,"  Spock said.  
  
"Of course you won't," McCoy said. "because I am the victim."  
  
"No," Spock said. "because that is what a friend is supposed to do. Even a lover for that matter. I am not biased for your story," the Vulcan shook his head then sneezed again into the white piece. "or whatever you went through," he placed it onto the counter and took another sip."  
  
"I will tell ya when ya get better," McCoy said.  
  
"I have all the time in the world, doctor," Spock said.  
  
"Unlike ya, bein' someone who has gone through hell and back," McCoy said. "with increasin' chances of dyin' because of some deadly disease. .   . like ya know, xenopolycythemia, Helenxenosymptenia, Cardassia Prime Jungle Malaria, Romulan posionin', and there are more that I am not in the mood to mention."  
  
"I understand," Spock said.  
  
"Nah, ya don't," McCoy said. "I have time for the next two years. You'll be better in a few days."

"Doctor. . ." Spock said. "when you feel it is appropriate. . ." Spock slowly was rolling it out. Almost like a snapping turtle poking its head out to look around then back in. "may. . we. . . repair the link. . ." His eyes looked up from his fingers toward the doctor's baby blue ones. "when you feel capable of it."  
  
"Later," McCoy briefly closed his eyes. "after your brother."  
  
"But--" Spock began to protest.  
  
"No ifs or buts about it," McCoy said. "he'll be there. He is the only Vulcan healer I know."  
  
"As you wish," Spock said.  
  
"And besides, he will be with me," McCoy said. "he will be in it with me." Spock took another sip.  
  
"I loved your poem," Spock said.  
  
McCoy had a half light smile.  
  
"It's awful," McCoy said, in shame.  
  
"On the contrary, it made me feel. .. things. . ." Spock said, then sneezed into the tissue. "things that you make me feel, too, that I cannot describe," McCoy raised his head appearing to be startled. "you look beautiful. Just like the first day we met. To be honest," Spock cleared his throat the sneezed into the tissue. "the  previous reunion, you looked majestic and gorgeous. I liked the beard. It looked ravishing on you."  
  
"No, ya didn't," McCoy said. "ya lyin' about that."  
  
"Yes, I did," Spock said. "it gave you a quite logical aesthetic."  
  
"Me? With a beard? Logical?" McCoy laughed, comfortable, at the Vulcan. "A bowl hair cut with be my logical aesthetic."  
  
"If that is your peception," Spock said. "and the next time," he sneezed, again. "you are suffering. . . you will not be alone," he wanted to touch the doctor so badly but he restrained himself. "I love you."  
  
"I don't want ya to suffer with me," McCoy said, "that is entirely against the point of bein' a doctor  tendin' to his patient!" Spock marveled at the doctor. "Ya sayin' that  love is makin' ya suffer."  
  
"Suffer love! A good epithet!" Spock said.  "I do suffer love indeed, for I love thee against my will."  
  
"How lon' have ya been waiting to make that quote?" McCoy asked, his eyebrows furrowed together.  
  
"Since I first read of it," Spock said. "I have achieved my dream of saying it to my bondmate among countless other phrases."

"Spock, we are boyfriends," McCoy said.  
  
"We are, but it counts," Spock said. "because by the end of this mission you will be mine."  
  
"Ya possessive when ya sick," McCoy said.  
  
"Hmm," Spock purred then sipped more from his plomeek soup. "delightful soup."  
  
"Thank ya," McCoy said.  
  
"Hmm," Spock sneezed into the new fabric of tissue. "I hate being sick."  
  
"That makes the two of us," McCoy said, holding his two fingers out. It was a large step for him to hold his two fingers out. Spock looked toward them then toward the man he was going to court the hell out of once extremely comfortable with being touched once more. "finally."  
  
"Indeed, Leonard," Spock returned the gesture returning affection and all the feelings that he felt being with him again like a crashing wave of ' _MINE, I WILL NOT LOSE YOU, AGAIN, I MISSED YOU,  WHY WERE YOU GONE FOR SO LONG, I LOVE YOU, I MISSED YOU SO MUCH, I MISSED YOU SO MUCH'_   and unconditional, pure utter adoring love. It spread warmth through the doctors heart. It will take one step at a time to get back where where they were before the events messed that all up.

And you know what?

It was going to be all right for the two men.  
  
Long as they didn't lose each other again.  
  
**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this roller coaster of shit, emotions, pain, hurt, angst, comfort Spones!
> 
> Did they sound in character?
> 
> What did you like most?
> 
> What did you hate the most?


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